Curiosity Kills
by Kirishtu
Summary: One young priestess' curiosity sets in motion an adventure of life and death itself.
1. Chapter 1

Originally posted on aff 2009-12-27 - 2011-05-20

Prologue

A wolf's howl echoed in the night. Several orc guards shifted at the sound of the cry, glancing uneasily at each other. Though the presence of wolves was not uncommon – there were at least three packs that claimed this territory – the orcs had plenty of reason to worry. The packs usually left the huge, green-skinned, tusked monsters alone, perhaps out of predatory respect, but as the weather turned colder the wolves had more of a reason to look toward the small camp.

The orc bad was not the only group enjoying the heat of the fire. Against their will sat two children, barely teenagers, huddled against one another. The boy bravely shielded the girl, though she had seen and felt the orcs' cruelty for her own. She shivered as the howl came again and clutched tighter to the boy. They were noble children, captives for ransom. The pair had been staying with relatives in the Barrens, and they, being human, made perfect targets for those who had less than savory intentions. The wolf bayed once more, closer, and then was silent. The orc guards moved closer together and muttered amongst themselves. Furtive glances were given to the surrounding dark, the kind of glances given when one knew there was danger out there, unseen and waiting.

An arrow suddenly blossomed from one orc's throat, cutting short his cry. His sudden dropping spurred those remaining into movement, weapons brought to bear against the invisible enemy. Another arrow caught a foolish orc in the eye when he peeked around hastily erected barricades. How many enemies were out there? The leader of the band, a huge, scarred orc dressed in heavy armour and animal pelts, loomed over the children, a broadsword held over them in threat. With his appearance the other orcs seemed to have a renewed confidence and organized themselves to face their foes.

"Come out!" Barked the orc leader in the tongue of his kind. "Come out, or I'll kill them!"

For a moment there was no movement, and the orc let his sword drop. The children screamed in fear. The sword stopped and hovered, waiting. Out of the shadows of the surrounding trees came the children's rescue: in the shape of a single night elf. He was young by elf standards, with long silver hair that fell down his back. His skin was a pale purple, mostly hidden by a hooded cloak that hid the rest of him. His hand gripped the heavy long bow though that was kept down by his side. His yellow, glowing eyes stared blankly at the orcs, as if he were not considering them at all.

The orc leader barked out a laugh. "A kal'dorei? That's it? You're it?" The kal'dorei did not make a reply. "Laughable! Kill him. Do it quickly. The first to bring me his head will get a reward." The lewd comment was not lost on his kin, some who eyed the human girl lecherously.

The elf remained completely still as one brave and foolish orc broke cover and raced toward him. The orc heaved his axe up above his head and even as he brought the axe down the elf was moving. His bow snapped into the orc's cut as he dodged to the side, discarding the longbow in favour of a scimitar. Its twin snapped out a moment later, catching a second attacker in the groin as the elf spun low to avoid a sidelong cut that would have removed his head. With both swords in hand, the kal'dorei blocked and parried the attacks of his two opponents. The twin blades moved at a lightning fast pace, and they snapped out wide as the elf dove between two orcs, cutting their knees as he rolled. The two brutes fell, howling, and they were out of the fight at the moment.

The band had consisted of twelve of the orcs, two dead now by the elf's arrows and two felled by those wicked scimitars. Seven remained to block the elf's way and only the orc leader's promise kept the six grunts from fleeing. Three charged the on-coming kal'dorei now, hoping to overwhelm the lone elf with sheer numbers. The kal'dorei fell into a sidespin to avoid a thrown axe and came back to his feet to block a downward chop with his crossed blades. Outweighed by the sheer force of the orc's arm, the elf nearly went down on one knee. But he set his feet and tumbled back, kicking up into the orc's stomach and launching him over his head. The elf came back up quickly and fell back to catch the stunned orc in the face with his boot, using the orc's face as a launching pad as he jumped up and spun to catch another attacker in the throat with a diagonal slash from his right-hand scimitar. The blade erupted in a spark of flame, setting its victim on fire. The orc howled in pain and dropped, trying to pout out the mystical flames. The third attacker came at the kal'dorei low, cutting at the elf's knees. The elf jumped over the axe head and on his descent kicked out, his heavy mail and leather boot catching the tusked humanoid in the jaw. The force snapped the orc's head to the side and he, like his brethren, was out of the fight.

Three grunts left and their leader.

The kal'dorei's eyes flicked toward the children as if gauging what would happen when the boss was alone. Shrugging his shoulder, the violet-skinned elf charged in. His first opponent was a young orc with a broken tusk. The stupid creature bravely tried to intercept the kal'dorei's charge and got a scimitar in the cut as the second blade knocked his broadsword wide. The kal'dorei spun under the falling body and freed his blade, using the dying orc as a stepping-stone to launch himself into the air. He came down hard on a second orc, his two blades cutting deep lines on the creature's throat. Blood sprayed as the orc's heart beat wildly in his panic, and foolishly he turned to follow the kal'dorei. He caught the last grunt's axe in his face and the axe's blade stuck in bone. The kal'dorei paused to stare at the sight, shook his head and charged the remaining orc.

The creature squealed – the kal'dorei hadn't actually thought orcs could squeal – and fled from the night elf. This left the orc leader and the elf alone, save for the two human children. Snarling in anger, the orc chieftain charged the kal'dorei, forcing the elf back. The broadsword and scimitars crashed in a thunderous collision, the force of which forced the kal'dorei into a brief retreat and forced him to reconsider his enemy.

The orc band's leader grinned toothily. "Your head will make a fine trophy."

The night elf twitched but otherwise did not reply. He backed up a little more, and stupidly, the orc followed. The kal'dorei set his feet and brought up his left hand scimitar as if he was ready to defend himself because he had no where else to retreat to. The orc leader grunted in victory and lifted his broadsword for a swing not even the elf could block without taking damage. Suddenly the kal'dorei dropped to a crouch and the orc stared at him for a long moment before he realized his mistake. He swung wildly, but the snarling wolf avoided the sword, soaring to crash into the orc's chest. All four paws carried the wolf's momentum into the orc, and its sharp fangs tore into his throat.

In the last moments of his life, the orc realized the elf had never been alone from the start. He stared at the kal'dorei hunter in disbelief and hatred, reached to tear the wolf off of him. The orc's arm fell limply and the wolf gave one last shake before it released its victim and returned to its master's side. The kal'dorei sheathed his scimitars and moved toward the two children, stroking the wolf's ears as he went. He simply held out his hand and two smaller ones slipped into his palm.

Then the hunter, the wolf, and children left the forest, leaving the dead behind.


	2. Chapter 2

One

Lyssia closed the final volume of the text she had been translating and sat back rubbing her eyes. The young priestess stared at the stack of books she was supposed to tackle next as part of her training and then to the stack of papers that were her translations and notes. It seemed to be a never-ending, vicious cycle and the woman was tired of it. She rose from her workplace and smoothed out her skirts before she left the library that resided within Stormwind Keep. It wouldn't hurt to take a walk, she decided, and tied back her long brunette hair before leaving.

Situated in Elwynn Forest and the harbour that connected Stormwind to Auberdine, the city was a bright jewel on the map. As such, its streets were almost always congested with people from humans to the tall night elves to the stout and short dwarves. Lyssia enjoyed walking the streets and listening to all the different dialects that could be found. Today her wandering brought her to the Trade District, where most of the city's activities were concentrated. Shouts came from the auction house and gryphon cries came from the eyrie situated in the high walls surrounding the city. Lyssia found a place to sit and watched people move back and forth, greeting friends, making new ones, having a wonderful time without a care that danger lurked around them in their travels. The human woman knew all too well the danger that waited just beyond the safety of the walls of the Alliance cities – her own father, the reason why she became a priestess, had risen from the dead as one of the Scourge, a mindless puppet of the Lich King. When he had regained his senses – became a Forsaken – he had tried to return home, only to be chased away by those who once loved him.

Lyssia shook her head to rid herself of those horrid memories and focused on happier times. She thought of her friends who were out adventuring and wondered what gifts they would bring home to her. Gidget, a Dwarven warrior (and secretly Lyssia's favourite of the lot), usually brought her pieces of enchanted jewelry to unlock and Widget, Gidget's twin and a fellow priest, would bring Lyssia books to read from far off lands. Accompanying the dwarves was the night elf druid Illidel, whose only role was to keep the two proud dwarves from fighting each other. Lyssia couldn't wait for them to return to Stormwind so they could tell her their stories.

Lyssia kicked her feet and looked down at the cobblestones that made up the street. She was honestly jealous, wishing she could go out and explore the world like everyone else. However, she was still just a novice priestess and the furthest away from Stormwind Lyssia had ever been might just be Darnassus when she went to visit the Temple of the Moon and Lady Tyrande.

Sighing at her ill luck, Lyssia rose from her seat to wander the canals, hoping maybe she could dawdle just a bit longer before she had to return to her work. The young woman picked her way slowly, wandering around people, hoping she could hear a tale or two. Her luck seemed empty indeed and groaning the priestess began her slow way back to the Keep and the books that waited for her.

"Did you hear what happened in Westfall?"

Lyssia paused, watching one of the Stormwind guards ease over to his patrol-mate, his voice low. Aware they might stop if she was spotted, Lyssia ducked behind the stoop of a nearby building.

"You mean all that's going on with the Defias?"

"Not just the Defias," the first replied, "the whole damn place. It's like something's in the air. A contingent went out to Westfall, and only one came back, blabbering about demons."

"They send anyone to investigate that?"

"Not yet. I hear they're waiting for some hotshot rogue to meet them at Sentinel ill before they go anywhere."

Lyssia stayed perfectly still as the soldiers moved on with their patrol. The priestess could count on her fingers how many incidents regarding demons occurred in Westfall. It seemed so innocuous, a terrified soldier yelling about demons, that Lyssia almost dismissed it. But it was the comment about the rogue that got her attention. She knew a few rogues, but the face that popped into her mind was that of a blue haired night elf who proudly called himself Eit.

Lyssia shook her head. She couldn't go gallivanting around the countryside on a hunch. She had work to do, no matter how much she wanted to go on adventure. Lyssia returned to the Keep and moved toward the library, ready to work again. She almost interrupted a meeting between the captain of the castle guard and her master, High Priest Allen Peyton. Trying to look demure and unobtrusive, Lyssia tried to slink back to her worktable.

"Lyssia."

Lyssia closed her eyes and straightened. "Yes, sir?"

Allen watched the young woman as she slowly turned to face the two men. "Have you met Captain Seamus Corel?"

Lyssia gave a simpering smile and offered her hand to the Captain. "Pleased to meet you."

"And I you, priestess." Seamus replied. "I was just discussing with your master the fact that I need your help."

Lyssia blinked. "My help?"

"They've discovered a strange book in Westfall." Seamus said. "Your master says you're the only one who might be able to translate it."

Lyssia looked to Allen, a smile brightening her face. "I'll really get to go?"

"Under an armed escort of course." Allen said. "That hammer of yours has barely seen battle."

Lyssia took the comment with good nature. "I'll be happy to aid Stormwind whenever the chance arises."

Allen nodded then looked to the Captain. "I'll have her ready within the hour."

Seamus gazed at Lyssia then kissed her knuckles as he left, leaving Lyssia blushing bright red. Allen shook his head. "Keep your wits about you, girl. You're heading for unsafe places."

"I'll be careful." Lyssia replied. "I can use my hammer against more than monsters."

Allen shook his head with a slight smile. "Then go gather your belongings and meet me at the gates."

Lyssia grinned widely and threw her arms around her teacher in a hug before she hurried off to get her things. This time, when her friends came home, Lyssia would have a tale to tell them.


	3. Chapter 3

Two

Rain pattered down on the leaves above her head. She crouched in the underbrush, golden eyes focused on her prey. She shifted slightly, rising up, ready to pounce. The rabbit came within range, and she lunged. The small creature didn't have a chance and her jaws closed around the panicked creature before it could even think to bolt. Tail and head held high and proud, Thesaeya returned to her master's side with her prey. The wolf settled down beside the kal'dorei hunter and began to eat her meal when her master began to eat his. Satisfied she was taking care of him, Thesaeya contentedly ate her catch.

They sat on the boundary between Westfall and Duskwood, under what shelter the trees offered while they ate lunch and enjoyed the warmth of a small fire. Nineveh, the kal'dorei hunter, contentedly nibbled on the hard bread he had stowed in his pack before he had left Ratchet, eyes watching the wilderness for signs of danger. His mind, however, wandered and dwelt on the small sack of silver coins that rested at the bottom of his backpack. Those coins irked him, for they put a price on the lives of two children he had rescued during his time in the forests of Feralas. While Nineveh was no druid, his twin Illidel was, and had instilled in him a value of life that could not be measured in coin. Illidel would yell at him for even accepting those coins, never mind the orcs he had killed.

Nineveh shook his head and shoved thoughts of the elder twin from his mind. He was a hunter, a ranger, not a druid.  
He reached out to stroke Thesaeya's ear and the wolf gave a throaty growl to indicate her pleasure. Nineveh hadn't spoken to Illidel since he had left Teldrassil two years ago, not that they hadn't been close to begin with. They had repelled each other, but at the same time, they had – and were – been the only family each other knew. Nineveh frowned and sighed. He pushed all thoughts of Illidel from his mind and focused on why he had come to Westfall. He wanted to say it was because Westfall was on the way to Stranglethorn Vale, where he could hop a ship back to Ratchet. He had come from the Moonglade a week ago after purchasing newer and better arrows, and had stopped in Stormwind to deliver a package. So why had he turned to Westfall instead of heading straight through to Duskwood? His only answer was that someone had called him here – or something.

Nineveh looked to Thesaeya. "Ready to go?"

"Rrrf."

Nineveh smiled and put out the campfire, rising and gathering his belongings. He would go to Sentinel Hill and wait out the rain there. Perhaps he could even figure out why he felt so restless here.

Trotting along beside Thesaeya, the kal'dorei's sharp eyes picked out tracks in the mud, judging which was animal and which could pose a danger to him and Thesaeya. The rain would deter most creatures, Nineveh hoped, and he could make the Hill without much incident. He was going in a roundabout way, but then, Nineveh always took the harder road. Thesaeya moved ahead of her mast, nose close to the ground as she followed scent after scent. Her tail waved lazily left and right and she raised her head, piercing golden eyes focusing on movement in the distance. Because Thesaeya focused, Nineveh focused, and ahead he saw shapes that resembled humanoids. There were five in total, two being chased by three, and Nineveh quickly moved to a closer vantage point, his wolf close at his heels. Now he could see them, two humans mounted on horses covered in lather, and three Defias thieves that looked almost as if they were undead.

"Wait." Nineveh told Thesaeya. Her hackles rose as the kal'dorei strung his bow, sighting an arrow on the leading Defias. His senses screamed at him to fire, Thesaeya's own snarls agreeing with those senses. Nineveh held his shot a second longer then let the razor arrow fly, the projectile imbued with a concussive spell. The arrow crashed into its target and the spell exploded, but it hardly slowed the Defias. Nineveh cursed.

Thesaeya howled and charged for the Defias Nineveh's arrow had struck, charging between the horses and leaping upon her victim. Nineveh set two arrows in the air and fired another with a spell before the first ever struck their target. He whirled suddenly, his scimitar whipping out to block a downward strike from a glaive. Close enough now to see what he was facing, Nineveh knew his enemies were indeed undead. But they weren't like any of the undead he had seen before, for these creatures lurched and grabbed for any open flesh, teeth gnashing in lipless mouths. Nineveh disengaged and put his bow away as he grabbed for his other scimitar, the enchantment sparking as it came into contact with dead flesh.

Thesaeya howled and a bolt of lightning illuminated the hills for the kal'dorei's eyes. He had made a mistake in counting the enemy. There were not three. There were thirteen. Not even he could fight thirteen at once. He heard a woman's yell and the horses scream and whipped around to see the second horse bolt away lacking its rider.

Whistling for Thesaeya, Nineveh broke for the woman, her hose squealing as the undead… things… surrounded it. Nineveh lunged for the animal, his agility allowing him to mount the beast behind the woman and wrest control, kicking the animal as he wheeled it for the Duskwood boundary. Determined, Nineveh wrapped his arms around the woman's waist and simply fell off the frightened animal. They rolled into the brush and Nineveh covered the girl's mouth with his hand, silently telling her to be quiet. Thesaeya was nowhere to be seen, but Nineveh could feel her still, so she was close by.

The kal'dorei watched the undead creatures limber after the horse and slowly but surely drew back deeper into the dark brush of Duskwood, bringing the girl with him. She jerked her arm out of his grip and glared at him, her mouth opening to yell. Nineveh pressed his hand to her mouth again and signaled for her to be quiet. She slapped his hand away.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" the woman hissed. "We have to go back!"

Nineveh stared at the girl for a moment. "You're crazy."

"Excuse me? You left him!"

"You were the only one alive. Those things, they wouldn't leave anything behind."

The girl fumed and her hand reached for her hammer. Nineveh didn't move. Thesaeya's growl froze the girl's hand and the silver-grey wolf slunk up to her master, displaying her rather impressive teeth. The girl's hand fell to her side. "I'm trying to get to Stormwind." She said at last. "I have a book to translate."

"From Sentinel Hill?" Nineveh asked softly. "No. If it were just a plain book those undead creatures wouldn't be chasing you." She refused to meet his gaze. "Fine. Better if you didn't tell me."

The girl opened her mouth, thought better of it, and closed it again. "I need an escort to Stormwind." She said finally.

Nineveh gave her a long, measuring look. Then he looked at Thesaeya. The wolf gave a short whuffing bark and dusted the ground with her tail.

Nineveh heaved a sigh. So much for Stranglethorn.

"Fine." The hunter said. "But we do things my way."

"What's your way?"

"The way that keeps us alive." Nineveh answered, then steered his new change into the wood. "Hope you wore boots."


	4. Chapter 4

Three

Lyssia's feet ached.

She couldn't remember the last time she had walked so far and barely made a dent in the miles. True, Stormwind wasn't all that far away from Sentinel Hill, but when you had to trek through miles of Duskwood forest to stay off the roads and under suitable cover, it took hours.

The elf wouldn't stop to let her rest. He wouldn't even carry her. Not like he had room on his back, anyway, with a quiver full of razor arrows and a bow slung across a shoulder. But they had been walking for hours, through much and water. Her feet were cold and soggy; her dress clung to her legs and made it impossible to maneuver; and her shoulder ached from the satchel she refused to let the kal'dorei carry.

At least the rain had stopped.

They crossed miles of Duskwood terrain until Darkshire was only a few more miles away.

"Can we please rest now?" Lyssia asked.

The elf's long ears twitched and it was the wolf that looked back at her, that yellow gaze far more intelligent than it should be. Lyssia swallowed.

"You want to tell me why you want to rest when you wanted to get to Stormwind so badly?"

Lyssia glowered at the insufferable prick. "Because my feet hurt."

Now the nearly black skinned elf looked at her. "Your feet hurt."

"What are you, a mimic?"

Those glowing yellow eyes narrowed dangerously. "We'll rest. Ten minutes."

Lyssia gratefully sat, muttering about night elves and something about their anatomy. While highly amusing, it was, unfortunately anatomically incorrect. She pulled off her boots to examine her feet. The elf sent his pet to patrol and crouched beside Lyssia, frowning at the welts on the soles and pads of her feet and toes. Lyssia took the moment to study the elf's face, having the feeling she'd seen it before. She couldn't quite place it.

"Hey!" Lyssia cried. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Elevating your feet." The elf replied. "They look worse than they are, but we don't want to take the chance of infection."

"I can just spell them better." Lyssia growled.

The elf gave her a look that plainly told her what he thought of magic.

"Priestess." Lyssia said snidely.

"Pain in the ass, more like."

"Shut up, elf."

The elf's yellow eyes narrowed. Lyssia swallowed. He finally moved away from her and went to meet his wolf, the animal standing on the trail and slowly wagging her tail. Lyssia closed her eyes and counted to ten. Twice. Then she opened her eyes and reached for her satchel. Wouldn't hurt to take a look now.

The book was unremarkable in and of itself. It was bound in plain, unadorned black leather and possessed yellowed pages. There was no title. Lyssia opened the cover and frowned at the runic writing on the first page. She recognized a few symbols, but the rest were as alien to her as Orcish. She tried to read a few lines, but the symbols blurred together, as if trying to prevent her from reading any further.

"Priestess."

Lyssia looked up at the elf that stood over her with a strange look in his golden eyes. "What?"

"Where did you get that book?"

"In Sentinel Hill." Lyssia answered. "Why?"

"That is demon writing." He said. His lips curled into a frown. "Demon cuneiform, if I'm not mistaken. Used to turn the living dead. Or vice versa."

"You've seen it before?" Lyssia whispered.

"Not like that, but yes." The elf's gaze narrowed. "In Tirisfal."

Lyssia blinked. "What's in Tirisfal that could look like this?"

"You know that the Scarlet Crusade has a stronghold there, right?"

"Well, yeah. Everyone knows that." Lyssia grumbled. "They're there because of the undead Undercity."

The elf nodded and stared at the book for a moment. "It's a good place to do experiments."

"What?"

"Think about it. Their goal is to wipe out all undead and whoever is associated with them. What better way to figure out how to do that than build a dungeon in the lands held by their enemies?"

Lyssia frowned deeply. "So that's what this is? Their journal?"

The elf shrugged. "It if was that simple, they wouldn't be sending ghouls to try and get it back."

Lyssia stared down at the book in her hands. It remained closed, plain cover offering up no more answers than the strange writing on the pages. This could be the answer the Alliance and Horde needed against the Scourge. With trembling fingers, Lyssia moved to open the book. The elf's hand came down hard on her own, keeping the book closed.

"What the hell was that for?!" Lyssia cried, yanked her hands and book from the kal'dorei's touch.

"Don't open it." The elf snarled. "Not here."

"Why?"

"Because Duskwood has enough undead problems without you adding to them." The elf snapped. "What do you want to do, bring the Scourge and the Crusade down on Stormwind?"

Lyssia made an irritated sound. "Who the hell do you think you are, telling me what to do?"

"I think I'm the one who saved your life." The kal'dorei growled. His wolf echoed him and the priestess suddenly felt outnumbered.

"Fine." Lyssia snapped and shoved the book into her satchel. "We won't look at it until we get to Stormwind."

The kal'dorei's eyes narrowed at the woman but said nothing. He just turned and walked away, forcing Lyssia to get up and follow or be left behind. They walked in angry silence through Duskwood, stopping for a few hours in Darkshire then continuing along their way. The wolf roamed ahead of her master, nose low t the ground as she scoured for scents. They passed a pack of wolves in silence and Lyssia breathed a sigh of relief when she the river separating Duskwood and Elwynn Forest. They were almost home. She could almost smell the pie carts of Stormwind's streets.

The hunter waded through the water with his wolf and waited for Lyssia on the other side. She hugged and stepped into the water, cursing her guide for making her swim. Still, she dried off quickly as they walked, passing through Goldshire and heading up toward Stormwind proper.

The kal'dorei eyed the walled city with distaste, but he plowed ahead with the woman, leaving his beloved wilds for the uncomfortable stone of the city. Nineveh dug his fingernails into his palms and fought to calm himself. All he had to do was get the woman to the castle and he could leave. Then he could go to Stranglethorn and get back to his own business.

He lost sight of the human when they neared the castle and found her running toward a group with a wild smile on her face. The two dwarves shouted and caught her in a fierce hug while the night elf in druid robes just smiled in greeting. When she looked into the druid's face, she froze.

Nineveh tried to get back around the corner, tried to retreat, but it was too late. Lyssia was already pointing at him. The druid's eyes met the hunter's. Nineveh groaned as the druid started toward him.

He couldn't run, not now. Nineveh bared his teeth at the druid and growled, "Hello, brother."


	5. Chapter 5

Four

Lyssia stared open-mouthed at the two kal'dorei that were identical save for the colour of their hair. She'd never heard of another set of night elf twins, only knowing of Malfurion Stormrage and his brother Illidan. Apparently others hadn't either, for more humans had stopped to stare at the pair of night elves.

The two stood still as if they were statues, softly breathing as they stared at each other. The hunter's face was a grimace, as if he hadn't wanted this confrontation. His golden eyes burned as brightly as his wolf's did, the animal standing beside her master and staring at the druid as if wanting to bite him. Finally, the druid offered his hand to the hunter. "Brother." Illidel said.

Nineveh glanced at the offered hand, then back to his brother. "Illidel." He replied, and didn't move. Illidel glowered and dropped his hand.

"Uh," Lyssia broke in, gazing between the two kal'dorei. "Can someone please explain to me what's going on?"

Illidel glanced at the priestess. "This is my younger brother, Nineveh. We haven't seen each other for a while."

"And I would've preferred to keep it that way." Nineveh replied. Lyssia blinked and glanced back and forth between them.

"You hate each other?"

"We've got different views. Hunter and druid." Illidel replied.

"Yeah." Nineveh added acidly. "He becomes an animal. I just tame them."

Illidel glowered at Nineveh and opened his mouth to say something nasty when Lyssia stepped between them. "Enough!" she commanded. "No fighting in Stormwind! Look, Illidel, Nineveh was nice enough to bring me back here so I could translate a book. He was just leaving." She looked at the hunter. "Right?"

Nineveh snorted and turned around, making for the gates of Stormwind. Illidel glowered at his twin's back and turned to Lyssia. "He actually escorted you here?"

Lyssia fidgeted. "He saved my life, actually. I was in Westfall when we met."

"An' what th' hell were ye doin' in Westfall, lass?" Widget asked.

Lyssia gave a short sigh. "I can't show you here. Let's go inside. I have to make a full report anyway."

The priestess led the trio of dwarves and night elf into the castle, and to the library. She wanted to get started on the translations right away, but she also needed help setting up wards and the like if it was true about what sort of creatures the book could attract. She led her group into her private room and locked the door. Then she moved to set up her holy wards and cleared a space on the floor. Illidel eyed her strangely as he watched her, and visibly recoiled when she pulled out the book.

"What the hell is that?" The druid asked.

Lyssia smiled grimly. "That's what I have to find out."

The wind blew an ominous warning. His nostrils flared at the strange scent and his eyes closed as he tried to decipher the warning. He shook his shaggy head and stopped his motions of prayer as he felt a coldness creeping into his chest. The Tauren druid opened his eyes and looked in the direction of Alliance-held lands, where the feeling grew stronger. He frowned at the warning he couldn't understand and picked up his staff.

Nakk moved away from the camp he'd been sharing with others of his order and started walking. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to go toward that feeling, only that he had to. The spirits would allow him to do nothing else. Halfway into the trip he let the change overcome him, and dropped to all fours, as he became the lion, powerful paws propelling him faster than his hooves could.

He made for the Deadwind Pass from the Swamp of Sorrows, and hoped he wouldn't be too late.


	6. Chapter 6

Five

Nineveh found himself heading back to Stormwind despite his great desire not to be around his brother. He'd gotten as far as Goldshire before that little feeling of guilt screwed up in his gut. Thesaeya nuzzled his thigh and whuffed encouragement, and he buried his hand in her soft fur and sighed. She gazed at him with gold eyes full of understanding and he knew even she expected him to go back to Stormwind to make sure the priestess didn't get herself killed with that book.

The hunter made his way back up the road toward Stormwind, moving slow in hopes that guilt would just go away. But it didn't, and his pace only let the darkness fall around them. The humans were gone off the road, tucked in beds or brightly lit houses. Nineveh strung his bow and nocked an arrow just before Thesaeya began to growl.

They were less than a mile away from Stormwind. The darkness grew thick and even the faint light from the stars and moon was lost in the inky blackness. Nineveh felt Thesaeya's nervousness as his own and quietly moved them into the brush, his bow ready.

Thesaeya quieted her growls and bared her teeth, her fur standing on end as he nose picked up the fetid scent her master couldn't smell yet. She looked up at the kal'dorei and saw his eyes were blank, and the wolf realized he couldn't see in this kind of darkness. He couldn't see what she could smell. If he couldn't see, then he couldn't shoot. Thesaeya rubbed her head against Nineveh's thigh and felt his silent agreement. His bowstring pulled back taut and Thesaeya crept forward.

They were dressed in the colours of Defias but they walked in lurching steps. They smelled like fetid meat but Thesaeya's eyes couldn't see how they could smell that way, as they looked healthy. She crouched, eyeing her targets. She couldn't keep her fangs in the meat long – rotted meat was sick meat and she'd get sick too. There were four, all confidently walking toward Stormwind. They looked drunk, and the guard they passed paid them no heed. Thesaeya rolled her gold eyes and lunged at the last member of the four, her teeth sinking into putrid flesh. She dragged the creature into the brush and heard a sharp whistle. Nineveh's arrow slammed into the zombie's head, just barely missing Thesaeya's ear. She immediately released the dead thing and hacked up the dead blood that had gotten into her mouth. She shook herself and began to stalk the remaining three.

Thesaeya heard Nineveh's whistle and she leaped back and bounded away just before the immolation trap went off. The inky dark burst into a bright orange glow as the flames consumed the three other zombies. The fire made their foul skin blister and burst as their putrid liquids smoked and boiled. Thesaeya skirted the glow and found Nineveh, the hunter's face a pale purple. She felt his fear and gently nipped his hand. She took a few steps toward Stormwind and looked back at her master. Nineveh simply nodded and the odd pair broke for the human city.

The streets were dark and empty when they arrived, but they just kept moving. Thesaeya put her nose low to the ground to find the priestess' scent. When she had it, the wolf took off, her master right behind her. Thesaeya trotted toward the castle and barked softly to get Nineveh's attention.

The kal'dorei swallowed as he felt Thesaeya's own nervousness and drew one of his swords as they entered the quiet palace. Nineveh kept his footsteps light and as soundless as he could, taking a few lessons out of a rogue's book as he padded after Thesaeya. The wolf led him into a hallway off the library and to a closed door where the scent ended.

"Step back." Nineveh told the wolf. She slowly obeyed and padded away from the door. Nineveh put his back to the wall beside the door and reached out to touch the wood. Almost immediately, vines ruptured from the door, covering it in a thick layer of thorns. Nineveh recognized the spell and gestured for Thesaeya to stay where she was. He pressed himself further back against the wall and angled his head toward the door. "Illidel."

"Nineveh?" his brother's voice was muffled. "How'd you get in the castle?"

"I walked in."

There was hushed murmuring. "How do we know you're really Nineveh?" Illidel asked.

"You're a dick."

The thorns slowly disappeared and the door creaked open. Illidel's gold eyes peered out at Nineveh. "You're an asshole."

"Shut up and move." Nineveh growled. "You make it sound like something bad's coming for you, so move."

Illidel disappeared then and the door opened wider. "Go Lyssia." The priestess crept out of the room and jumped at Thesaeya greeted her. The two dwarves followed her and Illidel brought up the rear. "Do you have horses?" he asked Nineveh.

"Yeah. They're waiting right outside where the sound echoes." Nineveh whispered harshly. "Of course I don't! We're running for it. We'll get horses in Darkshire."

Illidel glowered at his younger twin. Lyssia dug her nails into the druid's arm. "Let's just go." She whispered.

"Follow me." Nineveh gestured and Thesaeya trotted ahead, her sharp eyes studying every shadow. The strange group moved through the quiet city, hiding in shadows as guards paced by, skulking out of the Alliance stronghold into the wilds.


	7. Chapter 7

Six

If Nineveh knew Lyssia still carried the demonic book, he didn't make a scene out of it. The young woman shivered as she held onto Illidel's back, ducking her head to keep the hood of her cloak from flying off. They'd made it to Darkshire and found reports of strange undead wandering the roads. Besides Stitches, the undead seemed to attack anyone and anything, and the guards had found many a young wolf body lying half-chewed to pieces. It made Lyssia sick and her four companions very nervous.

Nineveh rode ahead on his nightsaber, the great cat loping easily over trails that would be dangerous for the horses and mountain goat the others rode. Thesaeya was a silver flash in the dark underbrush, the she-wolf scouting all around them, careful not to be seen or heard.

Lyssia felt tears sting her eyes. This was all her fault! She'd begun to translate the book from the demon runes to Common and had spoken a few phrases aloud when Illidel, Widget, and Gidget had gone to get food and beer (in the dwarves' case) for themselves while she worked. She hadn't felt anything wrong after saying the words, but the eerie darkness that had forced everyone inside and the strange silence that had followed told her otherwise.

It definitely fell into the category of 'daddy's gonna kill me'.

She closed her eyes tight. How was she supposed to fix it? She had to, for the sake of Azeroth's inhabitants. If the undead didn't get everyone first, the Lich King sure as hell would.

They crossed out of Duskwood into Stranglethorn Vale and Nineveh slowed their pace to an easy walk. He scouted out a wide clearing where he could see all directions and called a halt.

Lyssia slid off Illidel's horse and scrubbed her face with her sleeves, hoping to dry her tears and erase the red blotches on her cheeks.

"What do we do now?" she heard Illidel ask Nineveh.

"We stop it." Nineveh replied, gold eyes flicking over the human woman.

"An' jus' how d'ye propose we do tha'?" Widget asked. "We cannae jus' go an' ask 'em to leave us alone."

Lyssia turned slightly and caught the look in Nineveh's eyes. The stoic hunter looked concerned, his eyes flicking to the dwarf. Widget looked at him with his arms crossed over his chest. "Well?"

"We have to destroy the book." Nineveh replied. "To that end, we have to go to Tirisfal."

"Why do we have to go to Tirisfal?" Illidel growled. "It's full of the Forsaken and other undead things. They'll sooner kill you than look at you Nineveh!"

The hunter seemed unconcerned. "I have a friend in Tirisfal. Besides, we won't be going anywhere near Undercity."

"Then where will we be going?"

"The Scarlet Monastery."

Even Lyssia was shocked into silence. The priestess stared hard at Nineveh. "Why do we have to go there?" she asked.

"Because they'll have the answers we need." The kal'dorei stroked Thesaeya's ear as the wolf nuzzled his thigh. "The Scarlets are crazy, not stupid. If they created the book, or know of it, they'll know how to destroy it so it won't get into the hands of any of us, especially the Forsaken and Scourge."

"But we'd be takin' the book right to 'em." Gidget reasoned. "There's no sense in tha'."

"Which is why we need friends." Nineveh replied too patiently. "These friends just happen to live in Tirisfal."

Illidel frowned. "And just who are these friends?"

"A rogue and mage, you xenophobic freak." Nineveh replied dryly, and he wouldn't offer any names. Still, Lyssia had a sinking feeling that she knew the hunter's friends and she didn't like the names her brain was providing her.

Illidel clearly didn't like Nineveh's idea, but the druid couldn't think of a reason why they shouldn't go. They were going into Horde territory, the Forsaken's own home, by Elune! And Nineveh seemed completely okay with it! Illidel couldn't remember the last time his younger brother had been 'okay' with anything concerning the Horde – they'd been responsible for the deaths of their parents when he and Illidel had been children. Nineveh had been the one to declare an utter hatred for them, so what had happened to change the young hunter so? Illidel frowned. They'd grown too far part over the years and Illidel slowly realized their drift apart had been his fault.

He'd pushed Nineveh to be a druid, but his brother hated the idea. One morning, Illidel had woken to find Nineveh just gone.

"Nineveh." Illidel began.

The younger kal'dorei's eyes turned wolf-like and he ignored his twin, turning away to deal with his nightsaber and set up camp. Illidel winced – some wounds just didn't heal.

"What's with him?" Lyssia asked softly. Illidel looked at the human woman and frowned.

"When we were young I made him do something that was against his nature." Illidel replied. "After that, I suppose his adventures alone made him what he is."

"But he's your brother, right? So he loves you."

Illidel shrugged, unable to answer the priestess. Nineveh simply wasn't the brother he'd known anymore.

It was raining when they made it to Booty Bay, and the seas were so choppy no one dared to brave the waters. The group purchased a room at the inn and huddled around the small fireplace. Or at least, Lyssia did, continuing to struggle to translate the book, with Thesaeya beside her. The white wolf dozed curled up with her back to the flames, one golden eye cracking open whenever anyone entered or left the room.

Downstairs in the tavern, she could hear Widget and Gidget singing one of their songs, no doubt shit-faced drunk. Illidel would be with them to make sure the dwarves didn't turn violent against whatever Horde might be there. She didn't know where Nineveh was, only that he was nearby since Thesaeya wasn't making those little worried growly noises.

Thesaeya seemed more human-like than most hunters' pets. Lyssia toyed with a multitude of ideas, hoping they distracted her from her work.

Thesaeya's triangular ears lifted and rotated toward the door. Her head lifted a moment later, gold eyes on the door. Lyssia turned, but Thesaeya simply lay her head back down and snorted.

Nineveh entered the room carrying a tray of food. He glanced at Lyssia, then the book, then back to Lyssia. "I thought you might want something." He said lowly.

Lyssia tried to smile. "Thanks."

"Have you made any progress?"

"I got through the first three chapters." Lyssia confided. "It's difficult without my other books, but the language is all the same, so all I really need to do is translate the letters and tenses. It's… creepy, Nineveh."

"Scarlets usually are."

"It's not just Scarlets. The chapters deal with demons I've never heard of. Not just the Legion, but creatures above them." Lyssia shook her head. "The Scourge is mentioned too, and the Forsaken. I don't know what to make of it."

"Start at the beginning." Nineveh replied patiently as he set the tray of food down. "Speak slowly, softly. Take your time."

Lyssia took a deep breath and selected a hunk of honey bread to nibble it as she thought about how to describe what she'd read. "Like I said, the chapters deal with demons I've never heard of. If this was really is a Scarlet book, then what they want to do is summon a whole bunch of powerful demons into Azeroth to do some ethical cleansing. The first three chapters deal with the specific demons and their functions against the races. There're handwritten notes, too, experiments done on captured victims. This one," she pointed to a series of scribbled runes in the margins, "details on experiment done on a kal'dorei druid, male, approximately two-hundred years of age. They hanged him when it was over. And he lived like that for a week before his body rotted enough you couldn't make a Forsaken from him.

"This one details an experiment on a Forsaken girl, who's body had actually begun to regenerate after the torture. However, she died because her body couldn't take the strain of living again. What are they doing? I thought the Scarlets hated everything that didn't match their view of what was the Light. Why would they start consorting with demons and doing experiments like these?"

Nineveh was silent for a long while. He sat staring at the fire, gold eyes looking molten as they reflected the flames. "The Scarlets are steeped in Fel energy," he said at last. "They want to cleanse the world of everything, so why not use their greatest asset? And what better way to know for sure if it'll work than to do experiments?"

"Still," Lyssia stared at the open book before her, "it seems so… cruel."

"Scarlets." Nineveh replied, as if it explained all.

Unfortunately, it did.


	8. Chapter 8

Seven

Nakk's claws tore through undead flesh as he bore down on the rotted zombie as he would a loping deer. Under normal circumstances, the transformed Tauren druid would've used his teeth, but there was a strange, cloying scent around these particular undead, like meat left too long on the sun. It was a grave-smell, a foul scent that screamed 'poison!' to all his senses. The lion-druid pivoted on his front paws, grinding his current opponent into the dirt, kicking out his back legs at another opponent shambling toward him.

When he'd arrived in Duskwood, he'd been surprised to find shelter awaiting him in the Alliance-held town of Darkshire. A group of Horde adventurers had been sitting in the inn, conversing with the town's leader when he'd entered and had been informed then there was a truce between the village's defenders and the wandering Horde adventurers that passed by.

"Shelter for any who defend the town." He'd been told by an old orc. "Seems the undead are getting a tad too mindless for everyone's liking."

Nakk had left Darkshire with an uneasy feeling and it had gotten worse the further from civilization he went. More than one pair of guards stood at the bridges connecting Duskwood to Westfall and very few people traveled after dark.

Nakk could see why.

He tore through more undead flesh and called upon the thorns, catching more of the slavering horde in the sharp needles and thick vines. There were simply too many; he HAD to run or he wouldn't survive at all. The shape-changed Tauren pivoted on his hindquarters and loped away, running as fast as his paws could carry him. Nakk dodged around trees, leaving the trail completely as he made for the border of Stranglethorn Vale. His long legs ate up the ground, charging over hills and dead grasses with the undead horde right behind him.

The dusky murk of Duskwood melted away into a shaded forest, sunlight streaming down in bright splotches. Nakk kept running even though his lungs burned and his limps felt leaden. He finally stopped Neferiti Lake and changed into his two-legged form, stepping gratefully into the cool waters. The sweat caught under the druid's fur washed away, leaving him feeling fresh and clean. Nakk's nose twitched as he looked toward the blue of the sky, seeing rain-clouds beginning to loom overhead.

At least rain was preferable to the undead things that were lurking in the forest he'd left behind.

Nakk pulled himself from the lake and shook himself, sending drops of water flying. The Vale's heat would sap the remaining moisture from his clothes and fur by the time he reached Booty Bay, so long as he beat the rain.

The druid snorted at the low rumble of thunder and hurried on, taking long strides to get back to the trail and headed south toward Booty Bay. The feeling of sheer wrongness continued to increase the entire time. At least he was going in the right direction.

Lightning flashed somewhere in the distance followed by the low roll of thunder. The storm was moving in and moving in quickly. At this rate, he would be a drowned Tauren by the time he reached Booty Bay. By the Earthmother, did he wish he could fly already! Nakk picked up his pace and broke into a full-scale gallop, seeing the sheet of rain starting out over the water. The Tauren druid heaved a sigh of sheer irritation and focused his eyes ahead. Once he made it to Booty Bay, he could find the source of this wrong feeling and put a stop to it. Thunder rolled again and Nakk felt the rain begin on his head, a steady downpour that served to make him more irritated.

Yeah. Whatever was making this feeling of wrongness, it was sure as hell dead. Nakk put his head down and pressed onward.

Lyssia turned her head aside and sneezed viciously. In response, the dwarf brothers snored louder. The priestess rubbed her eyes and stared at the book open on the desk before her. The runes inscribed there seemed to float around the page, rearranging themselves into the Common tongue. She'd been at it all night, nearing the middle of the thick tome, and she was almost fluent now. She rubbed her face and leaned back in her seat. Thesaeya made a chuffing sound at her hip and Lyssia absently rubbed the wolf's ears.

"You should sleep." Came Illidel's voice from the doorway. Lyssia looked over at the druid. "Nineveh's probably told you that twice. He won't hesitate to put a spell over you."

Thesaeya snorted as if agreeing with the kal'dorei.

Lyssia fought the yawn, grumbling. "I know. But every time I try to close the book, I always tell myself just a little more. I'm almost done."

"You're halfway. That isn't 'almost done'." Illidel said. "Besides, you've barely eaten and you're starting to look like a Forsaken. Get some sleep, eat something, and take a bath. The damn book will still be there when you're done."

"But–"

"But nothing. Your father'd kill me if he found out I've let you spend three whole sleepless days on that thing."

Three days! Lyssia stared open-mouthed. Had it really been three days? She remembered talking to Nineveh and then… the rest was a blank. "Three days?"

Illidel nodded, the druid coming into the room and closing the door behind him. "We could've probably carried you on the ship and you never would've known the difference."

Lyssia thought she whimpered.

Illidel reached over her shoulder and closed the Scarlet tome. Lyssia stared on helplessly. "Get some sleep."

"Where's Nineveh?" Lyssia asked as she moved toward her bed with Illidel's help.

"Getting us passage on the next available ship." Illidel replied. "In you go."

The moment Lyssia was tucked safely in bed, Thesaeya jumped up beside her. The wolf settled her furry paws on Lyssia's middle and closed her eyes. Lyssia smiled weakly. "Looks like I'm not going anywhere."

Illidel smiled in return. "Looks like. Now get some sleep. I'll wake you when we're leaving."

Lyssia nodded and settled to sleep, closing her eyes and trying not to think about the book lying on the desk. She grew restless. When she tried to shift out of bed, Thesaeya would growl. She'd growl increasingly louder until she was all but howling and would only quiet when Lyssia returned to an acceptable sleeping position. The priestess was amazed the wolf didn't wake anyone else!

Finally, the woman was able to drop off into a light sleep, able to get a bit of rest even if it wasn't what Illidel had meant. Still, she didn't dream, which was probably for the best. When Illidel woke her, Thesaeya was gone, and their belongings were packed up, including the Scarlet tome. That Nineveh had in his backpack, as a way of keeping Lyssia from doing something foolish on the ship.

The group stood waiting side by side on the dock for their ship, dwarves, night elves, and the lone human woman drawing stares from passersby. Lyssia wondered what they were thinking – a single female surrounded by four males could mean a few things. She was either being passed around by them (which was gross) or she was some rich noble or some other option she hadn't thought of. Either way, Lyssia was unnerved because people kept staring, like she suddenly had sprouted wings or something. No one ever said anything – who would in a pirate holding? – but it made Lyssia increasingly uncomfortable as they waited for their ship. Lyssia glanced around them, trying to pick out how many people were going to be boarding the same ship they were. There were a few Alliance beside them, mostly Horde waiting patiently for their ship or moving toward the inn or flightmaster. Lyssia avoided their gazes, not wanting to incite some misunderstanding.

As a ship finally appeared on the distance, Lyssia finally felt some tension easing out of her shoulders.

A loud roar sounded form the entrance to Booty Bay and a Tauren druid barreled down the ramp, half a dozen goblins after him. His dark eyes focused on Lyssia and at once she knew she was dead. He bellowed again, causing the Horde to look up at him, then follow the Tauren's gaze to the group of Alliance standing at the dock. Lyssia could almost feel the animosity growing; if she didn't act soon, they'd have a fight on their hands.

She was about to step forward, to coerce the Tauren into calming down when he suddenly lunged forward, closing the distance between them alarmingly quick.

Then Nineveh was between her and the druid, snarling something in… Orcish? Or was it Taurahe? The hunter glowered at the druid, arms crossed over his chest like he was scolding the Tauren. The druid snarled back, pointing at Lyssia and snorting.

"What're they sayin'?" Widget asked softly.

Illidel and Lyssia shrugged.

Nineveh's voice was low and angry, like he wanted to yell but couldn't. The Tauren had no problem voicing his ire, the bullman shaking his hairy head and snorting. The kal'dorei suddenly lashed out, grabbing a fistful of dark fur, obviously uttering a threat. The Tauren actually looked surprised, staring down at the (slightly) smaller in wonder. Thesaeya's vicious snarl kept the other Horde from joining in, displaying her teeth in obvious threat. Nineveh spat something before he released the Tauren, then said in Common, "Now apologize to the lady."

The Tauren's nose flared and he glowered at the night elf's order. Still, he looked to Lyssia, his dark eyes focusing on her face. "Forgive me. I acted… irrationally."

"You think?" Illidel commented. Nineveh glowered at his twin. Illidel smirked, saying in Darnassian, "It's just a dumb cow."

"And you're a dumb asshole," Nineveh replied in Common, leaving no doubt to what his brother had said.

Illidel glared. Nineveh ignored him. Lyssia smiled weakly. "So," she began, "what, ah, caused you to…"

The Tauren rubbed his muzzle. "I suppose I simply lost control when I got too close. I could sense the foulness surrounding you and my first reaction was to attack."

"He's been following us since we fled Stormwind." Nineveh continued. He glanced at the Tauren. "The spirits told him to come."

"So he's joinin' us?" Gidget asked.

Nineveh made a noncommittal sound.

"Well, that's just great." Illidel grumbled. "Now we have to worry about a dumb cow while we travel too. Nineveh, why don't you just tame him and make him your pet?"

Nineveh's face was horribly blank. "Look at it this way, Illidel. He's our guide through Tirisfal. We'll be able to survive because of him."

Lyssia hid her grimace and looked up at the Tauren. "I'm sorry."

The druid shook his head. "I'm used to it. My name is Nakk. And it seems it's my mission to see that this evil is destroyed as well."

The dockmaster's boarding call stopped any further arguments, but Lyssia could see that Illidel and Nineveh were two steps away from going for each other's throats. Luckily, Nineveh distanced himself from his brother the moment they were on board and refused to even have so much as a meal with him. He ate alone, and Lyssia had to wonder how many times Nineveh had to force himself into a calm state of mind when Illidel made some snide comment about Nakk.

The Tauren, for his part, kept his own distance from the Alliance but was more than happy to speak to Lyssia. He could tolerate Nineveh, considering the kal'dorei showed him a measure of respect and spoke civilly to him. But other than that, the group was more fractured than it had been to begin with. And Lyssia's bad feeling just continued to increase.


	9. Chapter 9

Eight

Ratchet was unusually boisterous in the rain, and the group hurried to get under some shelter. Lyssia huddled under her cape, Thesaeya looking miserable in her soaked fur coat. Nineveh was the only one who didn't seem to mind the rain, speaking to several goblins and obtaining marks of safe passage for a healthy amount of gems and gold. Their funds no doubt drastically depleted, Nineveh returned to them, handing each Alliance member a mark.

"Don't lose these." He said lowly. "Even if we have a truce right now, one wrong move could kill us."

Lyssia looked at Illidel and saw the kal'dorei druid frowning. She sighed. "So do we go or do we wait for the rain to stop?"

Nineveh's yellow eyes flicked to her. "I don't mind the rain. Still, considering where we're going, it'll dampen my ability to hear anything approaching us."

Thesaeya made a snuffling-snort sound and opened her jaws in a doggy grin. Nineveh stared at her oddly, then shook his head. She whined but didn't move other than to lick at her forelegs.

Nakk frowned. "What'd she mean by your tracking skill?"

"As a hunter, I can track beasts and humanoids, among other things." Nineveh explained. "But it's not like I have a map above my head displaying little red dots. I need to be able to see tracks and hear sounds that'd be otherwise missed."  
Nakk made an understanding noise. Illidel frowned deeper. "You understand the wolf, cow?"

Nakk smirked. "And you don't?"

Illidel glowered. "Enough." Nineveh and Lyssia growled together. Even the dwarves looked worried. "We can't afford to fight each other." Lyssia said. "We're going to Tirisfal together and we're going to see this through together. Fight when we're done, dammit!"

Illidel made a noise and Nakk simply shifted his weight. Nineveh swiped his right hair out of his eyes and moved to pick up his pack. "Walking in the rain will do you some good. Let's go."

Lyssia hurried to Nineveh's side with Thesaeya and soon the dwarf brothers followed. Slowly, Nakk followed with Illidel bringing up the rear. Lyssia heard Nineveh sigh and agreed with him. This was going to be a long trip.

Other than receiving odd stares from the orcs and Tauren guarding the bridge into Durotar, the mismatched group was left alone. The challenge came as they passed through the open land of Durotar, bypassing civilization. They were tired and hot, but they kept moving as a majority of their party didn't want to deal with the Horde more than it had to. Still, they ran into young orcs and Darkspear trolls that stared at them with a measure of fear and respect and ingrained hatred as they made their way to the zeppelin tower, passing as far away from Orgrimmar as they could.

The pair of orcs guarding the tower stopped them. Nineveh and Nakk spoke to them, showing them the marks of passage and explaining their need to get to Tirisfal Glades. The one guard eyed the adventurers suspiciously, not believing their story. The other nodded in understanding.

Lyssia watched it all in awe. She'd never really considered the fact that the Horde were people too, and if treated with respect, they'd give you respect in return. Nineveh was speaking easily with the orcs in broken Orcish and Thalassian, amusing the guards but also showing he was trying. Nakk stood beside him, helping him talk, translating. They were working together. She looked at Illidel and saw the strain on his face. Was he upset his brother was befriending orcs and Tauren? Or was he upset for another reason? She didn't know all of Illidel's past – he'd been alive long before she was even born – and he'd never told her much except for snippets here and there. Nineveh hardly spoke at all and Lyssia had a sneaking suspicion he'd said more in the past few days than he had his entire life. She twisted a lock of hair around her finger and frowned at her aching feet.

This was her fault, really. She'd dragged all these unsuspecting individuals into the problem she caused to help fix it. She heard a zeppelin master yell out something as the shadow of an airship passed overhead and recognized Tirisfal.

Their ride had arrived.

The guards let them pass, much to the amazement of those waiting at the top for their zeppelin. Even the goblins stared wide-eyed, as the party stepped onto the zeppelin to Tirisfal Glades.

Nineveh chose to sit at the bow of the ship, stroking Thesaeya's ears. Illidel and the dwarves went below and Lyssia paused before following, swearing if they caused trouble, they were dead. Nakk stepped over to the hunter, staring down at the wolf that was so content to remain the elf's partner instead of being free.

"…I found her as a pup." Nineveh said unbidden. "She was the runt and had been abandoned, I guess. She needed me."

Thesaeya's gaze clearly showed she thought her master had needed her.

Nakk crouched down, reaching to pet the wolf. "You know how to handle Horde."

"Years of practice."

Nakk frowned. "You used to kill us."

"When I was younger, of course. We were supposed to kill each other." Nineveh replied softly. "Someone had to beat it into my head that we're all the same even if we look different and most of us don't have working organs anymore."

Nakk made a noise Nineveh assumed was a laugh. "And it's this person we're going to see?"

"He has the most experience when dealing with Scarlets."

"I see."

"He's just a little… strange."

"How strange?"

Nineveh was silent for a long while. "You'll see."

For some reason, Nakk didn't want to know, so he didn't ask. The look in Nineveh's eyes proved just how smart he'd been.


	10. Chapter 10

Nine

The Forsaken tower guards were more than happy to escort the party from the zeppelin. For a moment, Lyssia was afraid they'd be taken into Undercity, taken for experiments and turned into Forsaken themselves. But whatever Nineveh had told the guards seemed to carry a lot of weight and gave them free and safe passage into Brill, where they were finally able to rest in the inn.

When the Forsaken innkeeper bowed to Lyssia and called her 'Lady', the young woman knew exactly who they were going to see.

She slammed into Nineveh's room, almost spitting fire. "You're going to tell my father?!"

The elf looked at her mildly. "Would you prefer to figure it out on your own? Or traipse through the monastery with two druids, another priest, and a warrior without a way to make sure the entire place isn't on high alert?"

Lyssia deflated somewhat. "No." She pointed at the hunter. "But it doesn't give you the right to involve my father!"

"I'm not involving your father." Nineveh said slowly. "I'm involving Eit."

Now Lyssia really deflated. She slunk to a chair and slumped into it, staring blankly at the night elf. "Must you?"

"Who better than him to take out Scarlets? He knows the place, knows where they'd keep what's important. Besides, he'd find out we were here eventually, and I won't be the one to explain to him why we didn't contact him first."

Lyssia whimpered. "But… they'll be so pissed."

"Not my problem." Nineveh replied coolly. "You read the book. You spoke the words. Now we have to stop it."

"You're an asshole."

Nineveh shrugged. Lyssia sat in her chair and put wrinkles in her skirt, dreading going to see her father and Eit and explain to them just what she'd done.

Thesaeya's ears pricked and she let out a low growl. Nineveh was on his feet almost instantly, grabbing up his scimitars as he hurried out the door. Confused, Lyssia was right behind him and Thesaeya as they bounded down the stairs. Outside, the skeletal horses were braying, people shouting curses and screaming.

She heard Widget and Gidget and the roar of a bear.

She heard the guttural screeches of the Scourge.

Nineveh slammed out of the inn, Thesaeya bounding out behind him. She was the first off the stairs, a flying leap carrying her into the rotted body of something. It had been human once or elf or draenei or dwarf – Lyssia couldn't tell. A frayed, moldy rope swung about its neck. Lyssia almost retched as she saw Thesaeya's fangs flash, tearing into the fetid meat and driving her opponent down. A sharp whistle came from Nineveh and Thesaeya leaped clear of the corpse she'd been mauling.

Nineveh's scimitars were flashing, the night elf always moving and never giving his enemies a chance to surround him. Limbs and heads went flying, bodies lying twitching in his wake. Lyssia shook herself from her trance and hurried to the first of the wounded, the Forsaken man giving a nod of thanks as she put his foot – what was left of it, anyway – back to rights. An unspoken word passed around those she healed and suddenly Lyssia had an armed guard as she healed the wounded and eased the pain of the dying.

A lion's roar reverberated through her skull as Nakk dashed by, the Tauren barreling into several of the mindless, sharp horns and claws tearing them apart. Somewhere, Widget and Gidget sang Dwarven drinking songs, rhythmically hacking their opponents apart. Nineveh was ahead of her with Thesaeya, defending a group of Forsaken mages as the spells began to fly.

But where was Illidel?

Panic struck her at the thought of Illidel being killed. Lyssia glanced around, trying to spot the kal'dorei druid. Her guard seemed to catch on and started spreading the word as they fell back to the inn, the easiest place to defend.

Lyssia saw Nineveh stiffen when he heard his brother was missing. A change took place in the hunter then, his yellow eyes becoming far more feral and his strikes far more vicious as he struck down his enemies. The moment his path was clear, he bolted into the woods with Thesaeya at his heels.

"Nakk!" Lyssia yelled, pointing after Nineveh. "Go after him!"

The lion nodded and dropped his prey, taking off after the hunter. Widget and Gidget limped up a moment later, supported by a few Forsaken warriors.

"Where's Illidel?" Gidget asked.

Lyssia closed her eyes and shrugged sadly.

Nineveh could sense his brother as easily as he sensed Thesaeya. There was a connection between them, something that bound them together and made them a part of each other no matter how many times Nineveh tried to ignore it.  
He didn't hate his brother. Illidel had tried to do what he'd thought was best. But being a druid wasn't Nineveh's path. He could never become the animal; he could only work with them. He hadn't known how to explain it to his twin then, so he'd left, a fifteen-year-old kal'dorei trying to make his own way. He'd been so vulnerable, especially with the unhealed wounds on his soul caused by the Horde. It'd been ironic then, that his first hunting master had been an orc, and she'd taken his abuse with a clam he'd never understood. Even the raptor she'd tamed hadn't taken offense to the way Nineveh had treated his mistress. But she'd been a hard taskmistress. She trained him like she trained any aspiring hunter who sought her out.

Then he found Thesaeya and his mistress told him she could teach him nothing more. Now his pet would be his teacher and he'd have to learn the ways of hunting from the wolf.

He wasn't very good at catching food for Thesaeya at first, but the puppy was always patient. They grew together, adventured together, and Nineveh had been exposed to many different people. He'd met cruel Alliance and kind Horde, psychotic humans and benevolent Forsaken, and he'd even met a Highlord once. The Death Knight had simply acknowledged him and passed on her way, heading into the Plaguelands on Arthas' business.

He'd changed, that much Nineveh knew. He'd grown up more. But when he'd seen Illidel all of that old resentment and anger he thought he'd lost had come back lightning quick. It hadn't been fair to Illidel, who had tried to make amends between them.

Thesaeya's barking howl snapped the elf out of his reverie and he lunged forward with a thrust-cross cut combination. The undead creature tumbled to the ground, his sightless eyes accusing. Nineveh stared for a moment at the rotted corpse of the kal'dorei then bolted before he could have a chance to get sick. Thesaeya was a silver-white flash ahead of him, teeth and claws her weapons against the lurching horde around them. Nineveh was right behind her, immolation traps exploding on the undead that blundered into them. Tirisfal Glades became alive with fire, but there wasn't anything Nineveh could do now. He had to find his brother.

Nineveh and Thesaeya bounded over a hill and came upon a score of the rotted creatures lying dead – again – from a bear's claws. Crimson blood spattered the blades of grass, filling the hunter with a detached sort of horror. He and Thesaeya kept moving, following the trail of bodies and blood, growing increasingly disturbed the further they went.  
They heard a bear's roar, then a man's pain-filled scream, and Nineveh broke into a flat run, swords held in tight fists. They crested the last hill and saw Illidel lying flat on his back, Scarlet warriors standing around him. Nineveh could see his brother was breathing, but he was bleeding rather profusely from his head and a dozen other wounds. One of the human warriors bent down and picked up Illidel's head by his hair, saying something that made his companions laugh.

Nineveh let out an inhuman snarl and pelted forward, taking the first Scarlet by surprise. Thesaeya darted in from the darkness, snapping at heels before retreating, trying to get a majority to chase her.

But their eyes turned to the lone kal'dorei fighting against three of their number and as one they grinned. Thesaeya threw back her head, howling a challenge, and lunged, catching a man's throat in her powerful jaws.

Illidel stirred, eyes cracking open to see his brother fighting off his attackers, three lying dead at the hunter's feet already. There were more hiding in the dark, Illidel knew. It was an ambush, and he'd blundered right into it. Now his little brother was in the middle of it, growing exhausted and slow. They'd spring the trap and both he and Nineveh would be dead.

The druid struggled to his knees, unable to stand. He called out to the flora and fauna, and felt weak answers. It'd be enough. He asked them for aid, felt their old roots moving up through the dirt to wrap around legs and bring down the humans. Illidel felt more than saw the Scarlet stepping up behind him. He saw Nineveh's eyes widen and his brother faltered in his parry. One of the Scarlets the hunter faced slammed the pommel of the broadsword she wielded into the base of Nineveh's skull. The hunter crumpled to the ground, pain-filled gold eyes focused on his brother.

Illidel heard Nineveh scream. It was a sound he hadn't heard since they were children. It was full of terror and fear and panic, and Illidel heard it again as the knife was slowly drawn across his throat.

Nineveh's terrified, terribly young face was the very last thing Illidel saw.


	11. Chapter 11

Ten

Nineveh bolted awake screaming.

The Forsaken that were attending him leaped back, quite aware the kal'dorei could – and probably would – make them permanently dead. One left the room and Nineveh stopped screaming. Instead he just sat there, eyes blankly staring at the wall, blankets pooled around his hips. Slowly, the Forsaken edged out of the room, leaving Nineveh alone.

But he wasn't along for long.

An older kal'dorei slipped into the room, closing the door behind him. A face that was normally in a cheerful, devil-may-care smile was now carefully neutral. Blue hair fell down strong shoulders, and normally playful gold eyes were concerned. Slowly, the kal'dorei approached Nineveh, slowly settling beside him on the bed. As he wrapped his arms around the younger elf, Nineveh began to cry.

Eit let him, knowing there were no words he could use to comfort the younger elf. The night elf rogue just pet strands of white and tried to soothe Nineveh as best he could.

"There was nothing you could do," Eit said sadly, rocking Nineveh from side-to-side. "There were too many."

Nineveh shivered and closed his eyes tight. He didn't say a word.

Eit sighed. He knew – how well he knew! – what Nineveh was going through. He'd suffered the very same loss when he'd been younger, a boy fresh out of training. His own brother had been mercilessly tortured and hanged by the Scarlets in their Monastery, left to rot like he didn't mean the world to anyone. Eit could still see him sometimes, hanging in the tree and swinging when the breeze was strong enough. It was an old, dull pain, though. Nineveh's was fresh and raw. Eit didn't know how the younger kal'dorei would react to this new wound, didn't know how he'd heal. For Eit, he couldn't stand to be around the living when he'd been healing, instead drawn to the Forsaken and comforted by that scent of embalming fluids and formaldehyde. But the Forsaken couldn't heal this young hunter.

The door creaked open. Eit looked up at Noreel, the Forsaken mage easing into the room and closing the door behind him. "How is he?"

Eit looked at the young kal'dorei in his arms, seeing those gold eyes open and blankly staring. "Not sure." He answered.

"Has he spoken?"

Eit shook his head.

Noreel nodded. "Nineveh, would you like to see Thesaeya?"

Nineveh's head turned toward Noreel. Whatever the mage saw in the hunter's eyes, he didn't react, standing stone still with his normal bland expression. Slowly, Nineveh nodded.

Noreel opened the door and the wolf padded in, her ears pressed flat against her skull as she hopped onto the bed. Nineveh wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her fur. Thesaeya rumbled law in her chest, her own way of comforting her master.

Eit and Noreel left them alone, knowing Thesaeya would alert them should Nineveh try something stupid.

The common room of the inn was noisy with the survivors trying to figure out what had happened. Eit and Noreel waded through the crowd to the table closet to the hearth, where the dwarves, Lyssia, and Nakk waited.

Lyssia picked up her head as Noreel sat beside her. "How is he?" she asked.

Her father stared at her neutrally. "He's awake. He's damaged, I can be sure of that. How damaged I don't know."

"Thesaeya's with him." Eit added. He sat between the dwarves and Nakk. "You were lucky to find him when you did." He told the Tauren.

Nakk snorted. "It was still too late."

The whole table lapsed into silence. Nakk's eyes drifted to the fire. He remembered that horrible scene with great detail. The Scarlets had been busy hauling Illidel's body into the back of a meat wagon, with only a few standing guard over an unconscious Nineveh. Thesaeya was prowling the perimeter, killing ambushers before they could scream. Nakk had done the same, slowly circling inward until he could get to Nineveh.

Suddenly the hunter had leapt up, swords flashing. The rage in his eyes had been like that of an angry bear, mauling whatever happened to be in its way at the time.

He was reckless, taking hits without even realizing he'd been wounded. Nakk had rushed in then, but the Scarlets who had Illidel's corpse were fleeing. He'd ignored them and gone after Nineveh.

If it hadn't been for Eit appearing when he had, Nineveh would've torn Nakk to pieces. There had been so much blood, mostly Illidel's, and Nineveh had struggled so hard that his own blood had joined his brother's before Eit finally managed to put him to sleep.

Nakk had carried Nineveh back and sat healing him until this morning, exhausted and running on reserves. Somehow, the Tauren druid felt that it had been his fault somehow. If he'd been a little faster, a little more decisive, maybe Illidel would still be alive.

"They were Scarlet victims." He heard Noreel say in that low, neutral voice. The Tauren looked at the Forsaken mage. The man's face was pale and pallid and there was a hole in his cheek, but other than that he looked almost alive. Black hair in a tight braid fell over his left shoulder, streaked through with white. It gave him the air of experience, which Nakk was sure he didn't lack.

"You're sure?" Lyssia asked her father, a frown appearing on her face.

"I examined the dead myself. They all bore signs of torture, the Scarlets' specialties. They must've pulled themselves down from their trees." Noreel frowned. "The only thing I don't understand was that they were neither Forsaken nor Scourge."

"They 'ad tae be Scourge!" Widget growled. "They were attackin' everyone!"

"Everyone around Brill." Eit corrected. "Undercity and the Bulwark saw no signs of an attack, Scourge or otherwise. No, these things wanted something that was here."

Lyssia swallowed. Noreel looked at his daughter with a measured gaze. Lyssia met his eyes briefly then hung her head. "It's my fault."

Noreel nodded, like he'd expected that answer. "What happened?"

"A few weeks ago, in Westfall, a book was found in the Defias camp. I was asked to translate the book but before I could get back to Stormwind, my guard and I were attacked. That's when I met Nineveh." Lyssia twisted her hands in her skirt. "He brought me back to Stormwind. He warned me not to, but I read from the book anyway. I kept translating it and I learned the book talked about the Scourge, Forsaken, demons and creatures I didn't even know. Nineveh said we had to destroy it, that the key to doing that was in the Monastery."

"And you still have the book?" Eit asked.

Lyssia nodded. "It's in Nineveh's pack. He put it there so I wouldn't mess with it." She bowed her head. "I'm sorry."

Noreel sighed. Eit looked at his companion. "If you knew what spell she used, could you dispel it?"

"Maybe if I studied the book." Noreel answered. "But at this point, the spell's probably already run out. Whatever's making these mindless, it's already here."

"This is my fault." Lyssia whispered. "Illidel's dead because of me. So many are dead because of me. And Nineveh–"

"I'm going to murder them." Nineveh said quietly from behind Lyssia. "I'm going to find my brother and take him back to Darnassus where he can be laid to rest in peace."

Eit's eyes flashed to the hunter's face. "You shouldn't be up."

Nineveh's eyes blanked for a moment. "I can't lay in bed forever. I'm a part of this, Eit, whether you like it or not."

Eit looked about to protest, but Noreel turned to Nineveh and simply stared. "You'll follow our orders, understand?" Nineveh numbly nodded. "If we tell you to run, you run. If we tell you to hide, you hide."

"I'm not a child, Noreel."

"No. You're a young man who's lost someone important. You want revenge, and that's fine, but I won't let you become a martyr for it." Noreel looked at Nakk. "You're to stay by his side. Feel free to hit him if he tries anything stupid."

Nakk eyed Nineveh and felt the glower as if it were a punch. He simply nodded.

"So what do we do now?" Eit asked.

"First, I'm going to take a look at this book." Noreel began. "Then we'll get outfitted. We can't take a big group, so someone will have to stay here. We want stealth and speed."

"Guess that means we're tae be th' ones stayin'." Gidget quipped. "Suits us just fine."

Noreel nodded. "Very well. Lyssia, Nineveh, let's go see this book. Eit, you get us mounts. Nakk, get us healing supplies. We take empty packs except for healing items and extra weapons. We're in, we're out."

There was reluctant agreement from the party, but no one was going to argue with Noreel.


	12. Chapter 12

Eleven

The companions left Brill just before dawn. The skeletal horses whickered and stomped their hooves as they were led out of town, tossing their heads as they realized where they were being taken. Nakk managed to calm the undead beasts and kept them clam as they approached the hill to the monastery. They could smell the rot of meat before they saw the bodies twisting in the wind – they all made a point of staring straight ahead instead of looking up.

It was oddly quiet, with just a few pockets of Scarlets standing guard on the trail. They avoided them as best they could and Eit, Thesaeya, and Nakk killed those they couldn't, swiftly and quietly.

They left the horses at the base of a hill hidden by a large copse of trees. The undead animals proudly stamped their hooves and remained rooted to their spot, their empty eye sockets focused on their riders. Lyssia patted the bone muzzle of her mount before she turned to follow her father.

They'd left the book behind in Brill under a multitude of Noreel's spells. Nothing could remove it without severe loss of life, and the Deathguards were on high alert. Nothing was getting into Brill that wasn't supposed to be there. The trip into the monastery was supposed to be a quick one after all, so the book was safe enough until they got back.

Eit led them to the monastery's main hall, avoiding patrols as they moved. Nineveh stared at the Scarlets as they passed with murder in his golden eyes, but Nakk kept a firm hand on the kal'dorei's shoulder. Whether it was to comfort or to hold Nineveh back, Lyssia couldn't sure. Still, she kept her wits about her, placing enchantments on her companions as they passed through the pain hall and moved toward the right wing where the library rested. Monks paced the halls, along with guards, making passage incredibly difficult. By some miracle or another, Eit was able to pick off individuals that roamed too close without alerting anyone to their presence. Noreel and Lyssia began checking shelves and volumes for any book that had even an inkling of the demonic tongue of the book they held. Nineveh and Nakk kept watch for patrols, Thesaeya's ears pricked in the direction sound came from.

They must've spent hours skulking round the library wing searching for any sort of clue. As time wore on, and they grew closer to discovery, Lyssia began to feel as though she was performing a task simply to waste time. She could be back in Brill translating the book! But instead she was here, hunting through miles of shelves for a single clue that quite possible could not even be there!

Eit was running out of niches to hide his victims and they were running out of time. They still had too many shelves and tables to check within the limit they had left and their own tempers were starting to fray.

"There's nothing!" Nakk hissed as he finished checking his assigned bookcase. Lyssia made an agreeing noise.

"We must've checked every inch of the library." Noreel replied with that irritating calm. "If there's nothing here, then there must be a clue somewhere else."

"And where would you suggest we look?" Lyssia snapped. She glowered at her father. "They've noticed their missing brethren. They're going to find us. We have to get out. If I can finish translating the book then–"

"Then you could become a statistic." Nineveh shot back from where he crouched with Thesaeya. His eyes were focused down the hall, his hands working materials for a trap. "We're about to be found."

"What do you mean, statistic?" Lyssia demanded, gasping as an immolation trap when off down the empty hall, men and women screaming as their clothes and skin caught fire.

"They want the book back. You can read the book. Once you're useless, if you don't convert, you're dead." Nineveh finished his trap and pointed back the way they'd come. "We have to escape now."

Nakk led the dash from alcove to alcove, Nineveh pausing to set up traps to hinder their pursuit. It seemed to take forever to get back to the main hall and by then the entire monastery was on alert. Eit led the charge, invisible as he darted between Scarlets, opening up throats and taking out tendons, clearing a path for the others. Nakk and Thesaeya charged through the path of the dead and dying, making for the doors. The powerful Tauren put his head down and crashed into the closing portal, splintering wood as he charged through.

Thesaeya was right behind him, howling as she darted through legs, weaving her way through the arriving Scarlets and leaving them confused and disoriented. The kal'dorei rogue shot through the Scarlets, followed by a fierce fireball that cleared the path for Lyssia and Nineveh. The priestess chanced a look back over her shoulder–

– and saw Nineveh disappear down another corridor, the kal'dorei becoming invisible when someone approached. She looked back at the disappearing shapes of her companions and cursed as the Scarlets had begun to barricade the opening of the main staircase with whatever they could find. With a well-placed spell and a blow from her hammer she could escape easily, but Nineveh would be trapped on the inside. Alone.

Gritting her teeth and apologizing to her father and Eit, Lyssia stopped and backpedaled, quickly retreating back the way she'd come, chasing after Nineveh. When she caught up, she swore she'd give the kal'dorei the sharp side of her tongue and a few dents in his skull to go with it.

Nineveh knew, somewhere, he'd be in deep for this stunt, especially with Eit. The volatile rogue had made Nineveh swear up and down that he would under no circumstances strike out on his own within the temple, whether or not his search for Illidel's body (or the key to destroying the Scarlet book) proved fruitful. It was stupid to go wandering alone in any stronghold save ones held by your own side – you'd get captured, killed or both. And there was a pretty good chance of torture in between.

Still, despite knowing what awaited him if he got caught, Nineveh knew it would be worth it if he could destroy Illidel's body before it could be used, or find the secret to the Scarlet book. It was a fool's errand, whether he survived or not.  
Nineveh slipped down the hall, sticking to the shadows to become invisible if someone approached. As he went further down, he was able to smell rotting meat and blood. Screams came later, muffled by gags or water or the lack of air. There wasn't much he could do for the captives being tortured – even if he freed them most would get caught before they made it out of the hall, and those that were half-dead would die before he could get them proper treatment.

Like a tickle at the nape of his neck, Nineveh could feel Thesaeya's growing apprehension. By now, she realized where he was and would fight to get to his side. He only hoped the wolf had enough sense to stay away.

He reached the archway that opened up a torture chamber to the main hall and pressed flat to the side, carefully peering in.

"What the hell are you doing?!" a female voice hissed at his elbow. "Now we're stuck here!"

Nineveh jerked and spun around, staring wide-eyed at Lyssia. The priestess looked livid, her eyes narrowed dangerously. She pointed back the way they had come. "They blocked the entrance! They're on high alert! We're never going to get out of here!"

"Shh!" Nineveh hissed back, covering Lyssia's mouth with his hand. "We'll get caught quicker if you don't shut up!"

Lyssia glowered a fierce flare at him and had she been a fire mage she could've burnt Nineveh to a crisp right there. Slowly Nineveh removed his hand. Lyssia rubbed her lips. "Don't you have any sense?" she asked in a whisper. "We could've come back. Started where we left off. It's not like this place won't be here tomorrow."

"But Illidel might not be." Nineveh replied, once more looking into the torture chamber.

"Illidel's dead, Nin. Why would the Scarlets want his body now?"

Nineveh shrugged. "Who can tell what a Scarlet's mind thinks? All I know is that I have to get Illidel back before something happens."

"Like what?"

"I don't know."

"So you're risking your life to get your brother's body back, which you don't know if he's here or not, all based on a feeling something could happen if you didn't?" Lyssia asked, incredulously.

Nineveh nodded and slipped into the chamber. Lyssia muttered something pithy and followed, keeping further muttering to herself. All around they could hear sobbing, wails for help and please for death. Lyssia cringed each time a voice cried out in pain but she couldn't help, just as Nineveh couldn't help. If they did find Illidel's corpse, they'd be hard-pressed to escape then, without extra people to look after. It made the priestess hate herself a little more for leaving those helpless victims, but it was necessary.

It didn't make the lump in her throat vanish, though.

Nineveh ducked behind a pile of rope-bound crates and pulled Lyssia down with him. Whatever he heard, Lyssia knew it would be dangerous. Soon, she heard it too, the heavy footfalls of boots and armour, voices growing louder until words were recognizable.

"And the rats still haven't been found?" asked a deep male voice. There wasn't a reply, so Lyssia assumed the answer had been a shake of the head. "Did they take anything?"

"A few lunches. Most of the dead were found in the library wing."

"Which means the intruders were looking for something very specific. Do you know what?"

"We've assumed they were looking for languages, based on the books that were tampered with. We believe they are the ones with our Book of Genesis."

Lyssia and Nineveh glanced at each other.

"They're attempting to translate it?"

"Destroy it." The replying voice softened to a whisper – not even Nineveh could hear it. "Still, as long as the vial is safe in Tyr's Hand, the book cannot be destroyed."

"I see. And what of the other matter?"

"Being handled, though I'm afraid time is running out."

There was silence, the footsteps continuing. "Step up the experiments. If we want to see our ideal world, we must succeed."

The noises faded away and Lyssia had to grab the kal'dorei hunter by his ear to keep him from running off. He stared at her in hurt awe that she'd do such a thing. Lyssia glowered her best glare into the yellow eyes that stared back at her. "We are leaving." She hissed.

"But Illidel–"

"He's gone, Nineveh." Lyssia snapped. "I want his body back as much as you, but we're not going to do him any favours if we die here."

The hunter stared at her. Lyssia tried to hold back her surprise at how young Nineveh looked in that moment. The priestess licked her lips. "Let's go. Once we finish this task, we'll come back and look for him. I have a friend who'd love a chance to murder everything in these walls."

Nineveh stared at her for a moment longer before nodding. Lyssia nodded in return and let go of the kal'dorei's sensitive ear. She did, however, keep a firm hold on the kal'dorei's wrist preventing him from running off. She could only imagine the pain Nineveh felt, but she was sure it'd be far worse than the scolding they'd receive once they joined up with the rest of their group.


	13. Chapter 13

Twelve

"Tyr's Hand?" Noreel questioned as he tended to his daughter's wounds. Lyssia hissed at the use of the antiseptic and nodded.

"It's what they said. By the gods, couldn't Eit have gone easier on me?"

"Believe me, he did." Noreel frowned at the shallow slices on Lyssia's arms. Eit had held back far more with Lyssia than he had with Nineveh. The human girl wouldn't scar, at least. "What you two did was foolish and reckless. He punished you."

"I'm not his child." Lyssia grumped.

"No. But you're mine, and by default in Eit's way of thinking, what's mine is his."

"Bet he doesn't treat Nakori this way."

Noreel frowned. Nakori was Eit's own daughter by blood, a damn good rogue and just as, if not slightly more, psychotic than her father. "No. He's harder on her. Worse."

Lyssia's teeth clacked shut on her retort. Noreel finished the last touches of bandaging and herbal poultices before he stepped away from the girl and let her make herself decent for the eyes of others.

"I'm gonna be sore for weeks," Lyssia complained. Noreel didn't say anything.

When their two wayward younglings had made it back to the waiting group, Eit hadn't given any indication he was angry. It was after they'd returned to Brill that he'd hauled first Lyssia then Nineveh out into the yard outside the inn and drilled each in combat and defense. He was harder on Nineveh because it had been his idea to stay behind and he was kal'dorei. He could afford to be pushed. Lyssia, however, was human, and was more fragile, never mind the fact she was Noreel's daughter.

"How's Nineveh, anyway?"

Noreel's milky eyes flicked to Lyssia's face. "As well as he can be, I suppose."

Lyssia frowned. "He really loved Illidel, didn't he?"

"Of course he did. They're brothers. No matter what kind of falling out they had before, they still had that love for each other."

"Then how come mom didn't still love you?"

Noreel blinked. "Lyssia, I'm dead. Forsaken. I rose as part of the Scourge and tried to kill the living to add to the Lich King's ranks. Your mother loved me when I was alive. She'd let go of me when I died. Nineveh will let go, too, in time."

Lyssia frowned at her father's back as he left the room, heading downstairs where Eit and Nakk waited.

"Besides being a Scarlet stronghold, Tyr's Hand is an awfully out of the way place to hold anything related to the book." Nakk commented, looking at the map of the Eastern Plaguelands.

"Which makes it perfect for hiding shit." Eit replied. "Plus, there're more people. It's a Scourge-held land. From Stratholme to the Thondoril River, it's nothing but Scourge."

"Our only hope of getting into Tyr's Hand is to start at Light's Hope and head in." Noreel mentioned. "We'll probably have to disguise ourselves."

"At least you and Lyssia will." Nineveh whispered. "Scarlets are made up of humans and dwarves, very few of the other races. Eit and I can sneak in, Nakk too, in one of his other forms, but we can't exactly strut through the front door."

"And they'll recognize you for Forsaken." Lyssia replied. "I could walk in with Widget and Gidget as my guards, and we meet up later."

The two dwarves looked at each other, then back to Lyssia. "Dress up as one of them Scarlet bastards?" Widget asked. "Are ye crazy, lass?"

"Maybe. But then our only other option is to get help from a Highlord."

The whole table fell silent then.

"A Highlord." Nakk deadpanned. "Why would one help us?"

"I know one will." Lyssia said. "We're going to be walking into Scarlet territory. Plus, we're already in the land he's assigned to. He'll be watching us, anyway."

"Why don't we see how far we can get with plan A." Noreel muttered. "We'll get Scarlet clothes and identifications for you and the dwarves, so you'll be able to get in and start gathering clues. Eit will go with you, stealthed, so if any trouble arises, he can step in before it gets too dangerous."

"We just want this key." Nakk said. "Once you get your hands on that, get out of there. We'll hide the book somewhere close by so we can destroy it immediately."

"Me brother'll guard that wicked tome." Gidget said. Widget nodded so fiercely his beard bounced against his chest. "That way, ye only 'ave tae make sure on o' them Scarlet dwarves disappear."

"It'll be easier to look after two than three." Lyssia added upon seeing her father's face. "Eit can get us both out without having to return for a third if things go wrong."

Noreel nodded slowly. "Fine. Nineveh and Nakk, you two will be in charge of the distraction they'll need to get out. We can count on heavy guard and traps, so the faster we get in and get out the better."

The group gave a short, collective nod. By noon, they were riding out of Brill toward the Eastern Plaguelands and Tyr's Hand. As planned, they stopped at Light's Hope chapel before continuing on their way toward Tyr's Hand. They had to avoid the Scarlet courier and wait until they had passed before getting back onto the road. Nineveh, Thesaeya, and Nakk scouted ahead, looking for lone Scarlets to take out and possibly use their identities.

They came upon the Scarlet stronghold at dusk, Eit's hour. As they picketed the horses, Eit took measurements from Lyssia and the dwarves, nodding at Noreel's instructions. Then the rogue vanished into the dark, heading for the Scarlet's stronghold.

Hours ticked by. They sat in the dark, no fire, no blankets, simply listening to the night sounds and trusting Thesaeya to hear any sound that ought not be there. No one talked and no one moved. It was like waiting for the execution you knew would be coming.

Eit returned close to dawn. Thesaeya's soft greeting growl had woken Lyssia from her light sleep, and she watched through her lashes as Eit presented Noreel with the disguises Lyssia and Gidget would wear. Lyssia almost blushed at the sight of the priestess' raiment. How were those sheer, short things considered clothes? Still, she knew she had to wear them if she wanted to make things believable.

"I don't believe this." Lyssia muttered to herself as she finally picked herself up. Noreel wordlessly handed her the garments. "I'm going to look like a whore."

Noreel shifted. "Better than walking in stark naked."

Lyssia glowered but reluctantly agreed. She snuck behind a tree to change, stuffing her dress and cloak into her pack. The young woman had to adjust herself four times before she was comfortable but even still her face was beet red when she emerged.

Nineveh and Nakk weren't the only ones staring at her. She put her hands on her barely clothed hips. "What?" Lyssia snapped, trying not to turn redder than she already was.

Eit stepped over to her and pulled her hair from its bun, pulling part of the blonde mass back into a tail. "There. Now you look like a proper Scarlet wench. If anyone asks, you're Tyrisia Alliere. You've been on a pilgrimage for the last few years, trying to bring more innocents into the Scarlet's arms. Gidget, you're Asim Graveltongue, assigned to protect Tyrisia on her trip. If you must talk, speak sparingly. You aren't known for grandiose speeches." The rogue stepped back and nodded approvingly. "I'll be nearby the entire time. Don't look for me. Also, when you find the key, the code word is 'light'. I'll tell Nin and Nakk to start the distraction so you can get out."

"We'll meet right back here." Noreel added. "This is where Widget will wait with the book."

"Once we're all here, we're leaving as fast as we can." Lyssia said, cracking her knuckles. "And it'll be over."

The group nodded and split up, heading toward their respective tasks. Lyssia sent a prayer skyward, hoping they'd make it through safely.


	14. Chapter 14

Thirteen

Nakk stood stone still as he watched Nineveh set up traps, his eyes watching the kal'dorei's every movement. Nineveh hadn't changed much from when he'd first met the hunter. He was still quiet, perhaps a bit more introverted now than before, and he still had an air about him that, simply put, attracted the Tauren druid. It was a quiet strength the elf had in him, one that promised an explosive reaction if one pressed enough.

But Nakk still couldn't shake the image of Nineveh lying helpless beneath those humans, unconscious and prone, only a few feet away from his dead twin. Nakk hadn't been able to save Illidel, but he'd made sure he got Nineveh back safe.

He supposed that it was Nineveh's idea of blame that made him feel like he'd done something good, in an odd way. Nineveh's choice of target was the Scarlet Crusade, the cause of his brother's demise, rather than Nakk, who'd chosen the living over the dead. Nineveh didn't blame the group for not searching for Illidel at the Scarlet Monastery and instead seemed to be trying to bury his feelings beneath that thin mask of indifference and apathy as he'd done when they first met. It made Nakk realize how young Nineveh was – he wasn't as old as Eit, but he wasn't in the triple digits either, and yet he seemed so beyond his years in maturity it left Nakk wondering if Nineveh was older than he should be.

"Are you… okay?" Nakk asked to break the silence.

Yellow eyes, wolf's eyes, turned to stare at him. "I'm fine." Nineveh replied, sliding his eyes away from the Tauren.

Nakk frowned. Hunters and druids weren't so different, he surmised. One only tamed the animal into a lifetime companion while the other became the animal. What made them different, at least between Nakk and Nineveh, was race. He supposed Nineveh would open up more to Eit, since they were both kal'dorei, or even Noreel, since the Forsaken mage had once been human. But it wasn't that much of a secret that people likened the Tauren and Taunka to animals rather than men, and made them out to seem barbaric, worse than yeti or even the same as those black-and-white beasts wandering around Elwynn.

"It's… he was all I had left."

Nakk snapped out of his reverie. "What?"

Nineveh gave him a pained smile. "Illidel. He was the only family I had left."

Nakk's teeth clicked as he shut his mouth. He stared for a moment, then tried again. "What about your parents?"

"They died. Killed, by a raiding party." Nineveh looked down at his hands, where he was braiding ignition rope. "We were little. Six, I think. I don't remember where we were. Maybe somewhere close to Silvermoon. My parents had joined a group of high elves, trying to defend a scrap of land that probably would've been better off abandoned. In any case, they stayed and fought. At first the Scourge weren't so bad. They managed to hold them off until reinforcements arrived, but they were Horde operatives. While there was a common enemy, they were more than happy to work together, but when the Scourge were finally beaten back, the allies turned on my parents.

"I don't really know why the did. I couldn't find anyone from that original group to ask them. And I don't know why they spared Illidel and I. Maybe because we were children, or because we weren't infected." Nineveh shrugged. "After that, Illidel and I were taken in by a druid, Illidel's master."

"You didn't stay?"

"I couldn't be a druid. For whatever reason, hunting sang a sweeter song. I ran away and was found by an orc hunter. She trained me, taught me."

Nakk shifted, moving closer to Nineveh as the elf finished braiding the rope. The druid crouched down and reached out to touch Nineveh's shoulder. "I think Illidel died without regrets. He wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

"I let those Scarlet bastards get away with his body." Nineveh said softly. "I'll get it back. I resented him, hated him, even, but… he's still my brother."

Nakk shifted a bit more, and pulled the kal'dorei against him. Nineveh looked startled but he didn't protest or pull away. He didn't relax much, either, until Nakk simply relaxed first.

The Tauren had never been this close to a kal'dorei – he'd never WANTED to be this close to a kal'dorei or anyone from the Alliance. But Nineveh was different, and Nakk was attracted. Nineveh turned his head away from Nakk's muzzle and looked out onto the woods. Both could only sit and wait, and hope everything went as planned.


	15. Chapter 15

Fourteen

Lyssia tried not to pull at her seat or adjust her breasts as she walked. She was uncomfortable, to say the least, but she couldn't afford to let that break her concentration. The moment she and Gidget had stepped into Tyr's Hand, Lyssia had felt an odd pulling sensation, like someone or something was beckoning her. She learned by observation the proper greeting for a priestess to give lesser and superiors and hoped she was doing it right so she wasn't stopped and questioned. Gidget walked silently beside her, his face set in a deep frown. Lyssia knew he was worried for Widget, but Gidget was a dwarf of his word. No matter what, he would protect Lyssia. The priestess hoped that they'd be able to get in, get what they needed, and get out before their ruse was discovered. Scarlets were everywhere in Tyr's Hand – they couldn't go ten feet without running into one! Each time, Lyssia gave or received a sign of respect, but no one deigned to speak with her. For that she was glad, because she hadn't the slightest clue what she would say if someone DID confront her. "Hello, how's the weather?" didn't seem like the proper thing to say, after all.

The feeling Lyssia followed grew steadily stronger until she reached what must've been the cathedral. Then the feeling was a steady pulse, and she almost stopped. Instead, she clutched to Gidget's shoulder and allowed the stout dwarf to pull her along. When they were a good ten feet away, and able to halt without drawing suspicion, Lyssia let go of her companion.

"What be it, lass?" Gidget asked softly. Lyssia glanced to the open door of the cathedral.

"It's in there." She replied. "The key. Signal Eit and we'll go in."

"Aye." Gidget lifted his hand to his beard and tugged three times. Lyssia felt a ghostly touch on the back of her neck and saw a stealthed kal'dorei flicker by. She counted to ten, then with purpose moved toward the cathedral with her guard.  
The halls were empty, but she could hear voices. They weren't alone, and it was likely those inside were the guards to the treasure she wanted. They'd have to be fast and sneaky all while trying not to draw attention. Lyssia took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and headed inside. The pulsing grew stronger, ebbing when she went in the wrong direction and waxing stronger when she stepped toward the right direction. Minutes ticked by, and Lyssia could felt the adrenaline beginning to flow into her veins. By some miracle, she held her panic in check.

They headed upstairs to the belfry, where the feeling grew so strong Lyssia almost collapsed. Gidget eyed her curiously and kept a firm hand on her arm to support her as they made their way up. On the final landing, Lyssia saw it, a clear crystal sphere, hued red by a strange mist, sitting on a cloth-covered pedestal. She approached slowly, looking for signs of traps or alarms, while Gidget kept a lookout by the doorway. Seeing nothing that could be construed as a trap or otherwise, Lyssia set her hands on the misty orb.

Pain shot through her. It was so sudden that she couldn't scream, her teeth clamped shut as she jerked. Words filled Lyssia's head, words so achingly familiar but foreign at the same time. She felt something clawing at her mind and forced herself to fight back, summoning her healing powers on herself as well as spells that would protect her. The alien presence in her head grew stronger in order to defeat Lyssia's attempts at self-preservation, and Lyssia grew stronger in response, refusing to submit. A deep chuckle, sepulchral and earthy, echoed through her very core, and suddenly Lyssia was alone, panting, the orb held in her hands.

Triumphant, she turned around to call to Gidget, to have him signal Eit again so they could escape. The orb fell from her grasp and hit the floor with a loud thunk. It rolled away from her, stopped by the gloved hands of a Scarlet fighter.

The Scarlet priest removed Gidget's head from his shoulders and dropped the head atop the dwarf's corpse. The man smiled sweetly at Lyssia. "We've been waiting for you, young lady."

Before Lyssia could scream, a sharp, searing pain bloomed in her chest, and as the spell spread out through her limbs and mind, all she could see was Gidget's wide eyes staring at her.

Widget paced nervously. Something was wrong – he could feel it. He wrung his hands and glanced at the mound where Noreel had buried the book. He tore his gaze away and continued pacing. He'd never been separated from his brother for so long. Once, when they were children, they'd gotten lost and separated in the snows of Dun Morogh. They'd searched for one another, unwittingly getting further and further away from each other. Their father had scolded them something fierce, and never again had they separated.

A branch cracked and Widget whirled around. He prayed it was an animal, maybe even that Highlord Lyssia claimed allyship with. Maybe it was the whole lot returning!

Widget took a couple of steps forward and peered out into the trees. After a moment, he heard the steady beat of hooves and the rickety hum of a wagon's wheels. Had they succeeded?

There was a high-pitched whine and Widget almost didn't see the arrow until it hit his barrier. More arrows raced in, striking the priest's barrier and staining the magic holding it together. Widget yelled – no one was close enough to hear him.

Out of the trees they melted, Scarlet guards that rushed the lone dwarf, striking his shield and draining more of his power. The priest struck back, managing to kill one or two and wound half a dozen others. Then Widget saw the wagon, saw the bars, and Lyssia – ALONE – behind them.

Their eyes met, briefly.

The dwarf priest flew into a rage, spells crashing down on the Scarlets, determined to take down as many as he could. His shield shattered, and they swarmed him. Lyssia cried out in terror, reaching for him, trying to heal him even though it was too late.

Karanus, the high priest, looked back at Lyssia. "Brave little friend you've got, lass."

"You didn't have to kill them!" Lyssia retorted.

Karanus simply smiled. "Can't have any witnesses, my dear. Besides, they're non-believers, just like you. If we hadn't any need of you, you'd have joined your dwarf friends." He turned away from Lyssia then and called to his men, "Dig it up and be quick about it. We have a deadline, after all."

Lyssia watched in horror as the Scarlets set upon the mound, digging and digging until they unearthed the book. Once Karanus had the book in his hands, the procession continued on, and Lyssia watched Widget's corpse fade away. She clasped her hands together and prayed.


	16. Chapter 16

**Fifteen**

Nineveh and Nakk loped behind Thesaeya, the wolf growling low in her throat the entire time she ran. Nakk could feel the urgency in his own soul, the corrupted plants singing a garbled song to him. He could make out the message clear enough, but what it meant, he wasn't exactly sure.

Eit and Noreel were nowhere to be found, and Lyssia and Gidget hadn't signaled for the distraction. The hunter and druid abandoned their post and hurried toward where they'd left Widget – and the book.

Nineveh thrust out his arm to stop Nakk and had the Tauren not been paying attention, there was no doubt he'd have broken that outstretched limb. As it were, he skidded to a stop and felt the hair on his body start to stand on end. Thesaeya's growl turned into a snarl and she paced the edge of the camp. Slowly, Nineveh eased up to her and put his hand on her angular head. His yellow eyes stared at the scene with detachment, picking up tracks and through Thesaeya, scents.

Nakk saw a small arm and thought he was going to be sick. "That's not…?"

Nineveh only nodded. Nakk fell his stomach begin to churn. Thesaeya canted her head and paced around the camp, growling as she saw enemies lying dead around the body of friend-Widget. Her ears pricked up, and before Nineveh could command her to heel, she lunged into the underbrush and closed her jaws around the ankle of a wounded Scarlet, no doubt left for dead by her comrades. The woman howled and tried to beat the wolf about the head, but Thesaeya was too quick, snapping at those closed fists as they came toward her snout or eyes. A moment later Nineveh was there, an arrow trained on the Scarlet's heart. Her crazed eyes gleamed up at Nineveh, a wicked smile spreading on her face.

"What did you do?" Nineveh asked with deadly calm.

The woman laughed. "You're too late, cur!"

"Too late for what?"

"To stop it! You're too late and now you'll all die!"

Nakk sidled up to the kal'dorei. "Pain won't work." He said. "And neither will threatening death. No, with these bastards you have to do something else."

Nineveh and the Scarlet watched as Nakk removed a green-coloured vial from the pouch at his hip. Nineveh recognized it as a fortitude potion and he was about to question the druid when Nakk peered down at their captive. "You know what this is?"

The Scarlet frowned.

"It's Blight." Nakk continued. "A new strain designed specifically for you, by Lady Sylvanas herself. You won't die, of course, just become a Forsaken." The Scarlet woman's face grew confused, as if she couldn't decide if Nakk was lying or not. "And," Nakk continued nonchalantly, "it'll put you under Sylvanas' directed control. All of your secrets will become hers; all of your actions will be her will. You won't have freedom like those who'll become your brothers and sisters, and you won't be able to end your unlife unless the Dark Lady wills it."

"You're bluffing." The Scarlet protested.

Nakk smiled, a frightening sight even though he wasn't really trying. He unstoppered the vial. "Let's find out."

He leaned down to grab the woman's jaw and forced it open, being deliberately slow in tipping the vial over. The panic in the woman's eyes was almost palpable.

"He'll do it." Nineveh crooned, eyes glowing yellow in the growing dark. "Unless you tell us what we want to know. Then we can simply kill you."

It was probably Thesaeya's throaty snarl that frightened the woman the most. She shook her head to free her jaw and stared at the vial above her head. "I don't know the details. We were ordered to capture the girl and find the book."

"What girl?" Nakk asked.

"The priestess girl. The one who read the book! Karanus needs her for something, something that'll destroy all of you!"

Nakk and Nineveh glanced at each other. "Where did Karanus take her?" Nakk asked.

When the woman hesitated too long, Thesaeya snarled. "St-Stratholme! The Scarlet quarter!"

Nakk stoppered the vial and slid it away as he stepped back. The woman looked relieved. "You aren't going to kill me?" she asked snidely.

Nineveh smiled. "We're not, no. He is."

The woman screamed as she looked up into Eit's face.


	17. Chapter 17

**Sixteen**

They buried Widget and Gidget together and said a few prayers before the four turned for Stratholme. They rode in silence, mostly out of the knowledge they'd failed to protect their friends and that two more were now dead. The stuck to the road and avoided Scourge and Scarlet alike for the most part. Eit was more than happy to take out any stray Scarlet they came across, but none could provide more information that they'd gotten before.

Stratholme was a dangerous place. It was crawling with Scourge, all created from the citizens of the once proud city. Arthas had spared no one, killing everyone to prevent the spread of the plague, then becoming the very thing that controlled the Scourge. It was almost ironic, in a way. In addition to the Scourge and ghosts, the Scarlets had also set up their own stronghold within, and there were dozens of the Scourge between them and the entrance to the city. The unwary and unprepared would be killed before they took five steps.

Nineveh took a deep breath as the walls of Stratholme became visible. He'd never been in the place, or near it. He'd never had a reason to make a run, and now he was going in there to rescue Lyssia and stop Azeroth's destruction.

It waxed poetic, in a disturbing sort of way. Save the girl, save the world.

The quartet stopped in the courtyard just after the bridge and tied their skeletal horses in a hidden niche in the hills beside the gate. Nineveh drew his twin blades as Eit drew his dagger and sword. Both Nakk and Noreel prepared spells. By unspoken agreement they were as ready as they ever were going to be, and the men and wolf slipped into the city, cutting down the first of the Scourge they encountered.

Lyssia shook her chains slowly, back and forth, like a swing. There wasn't much else she could do, chained up in Karanus' personal study so the high priest would how her location at any given moment in time. Her thoughts were on her friends and father. Had they met the same fate as Widget and Gidget? Were Nineveh, Thesaeya, and Nakk lying dead somewhere? What about Eit and Noreel? She felt the sting of tears and blinked them back. Now wasn't the time to be crying! Lyssia told herself. She had to find a way out of here, and destroy the book while she was at it!

She knew she was in Stratholme. That was why the guard had been so heavy. Besides the few they'd lost retrieving the book, they lost a little more trying to get to the Scarlet holdings. Those who were killed were burned on the spot as Karanus said the final rites over their smoldering corpses.

Lyssia leaned back her head and stared at the rafters above her head. She was scared. How could she not be, she wondered. She was a captive, little better than a slave. The only thing she had going for her at this point was that the Scarlets considered her too impure for other uses.

Footsteps rushed by, a common enough sound. Voices were a dull murmur through the wooden door, but Lyssia recognized Karanus'. She also could feel the pull of the book and key, though it was muted, as though they were far away. Lyssia brought her gaze down to the floor and lifted her feet to the heels.

Footsteps rushed by again, this time in the opposite direction. Lyssia sighed. They weren't ready for her yet. Of course, she didn't know what they really wanted her for. Karanus hadn't given her much to go on, except that he needed her, the book, and the key for some design of his. He'd given her proper clothes and chained her up in his chambers where she was near at hand. It pissed her off, really, because Lyssia didn't much like playing damsel in distress. Especially when that role included helping the designated 'bad guys' somehow.

Footsteps approached the door once again and a key turned in the lock. Karanus stepped through the portal and eyed the helpless priestess, and Lyssia got the feeling he was studying her and equated it to how a wolf sized up its prey. She frowned at him, narrowing her eyes in as best a threat as she could. Karanus gave her a wicked smile.

"Now, now my dear." The priest said in a mocking tone. "At least I'm not going to kill you. Or feed you to the Scourge. You're important after all."

"Why am I important?" Lyssia asked as Karanus stepped into the chamber and closed the door behind him.

"Tut, tut." Karanus replied with a smile. "All in due time, my dear. All you have to do is sit pretty for a few more hours."

"Please don't tell me I'm a virgin sacrifice." Lyssia said sarcastically, following the priest with her eyes. "That's so cliché."

"As psychotic as most of us are, Lady, virgin sacrifice isn't part of our tenant. SACRIFICE, however, is, but you're too important for that." Karanus pushed strands of black hair out of silver-blue eyes and frowned. He seemed about to say something, then decided against it.

Lyssia glowered at the Scarlet priest. He was young, for an ambitious bastard, maybe only in his early twenties. There was something Lyssia didn't like about him (besides his affiliation) but she could sense the Light was strong with him. Silver-blue eyes were quick to calculate and make decisions, and he possessed long black hair that seemed out of place on a Scarlet like him. There was something inherently different about Karanus, something Lyssia couldn't quite put her finger on.

For hours they sat in silence, the Scarlet priest rifling through papers while the priestess tried to figure out either a) a way to escape; or b) what was different about the man who held her hostage. No answers were forthcoming, just as Lyssia figured, and by the time she nearly finished counting all the bricks in the room, Karanus abruptly rose from his desk and stalked out of the chamber.

"Oh, no, don't bother yourself." Lyssia muttered. "My ass isn't numb or anything." She grumbled a few more choice words that she pretended she didn't know and settled to wait, trying to shift position because her butt was indeed numb.

She counted twenty minutes before Karanus returned with a full guard. They unchained her under the priest's watchful eye and fell in around her as Karanus led the procession out of the chamber and down the hallway. Lyssia memorized the path, in case she could escape later. The hall was long, then suddenly began to curve and descend, and Lyssia could hear a low him. It steadily grew louder until she identified voices and the hall opened up into a wide chamber decorated with tapestries and sconces and braziers. In the center sat a pedestal with a linen-wrapped body upon it, and on a rise above the pedestal sat the book and the red-mist orb. It slowly dawned on the woman just exactly what she was to do.

Lyssia looked at Karanus with horror in her eyes. The man simply smiled back at her. She struggled and protested as she was pulled to the pedestal, her hand forced onto the red-mist orb. Lyssia snarled, but her hand was adhered to the orb; no matter how hard she tugged, she couldn't pull free.

"Bastard!" Lyssia screamed. "They'll kill you for this!"

Karanus smiled wider. "I'm sure. Now if you don't mind, please read the spell."

"No." Lyssia replied with an equally wide smile. "And you can't make me."

Karanus' eyebrow slowly rose. "If you're saying I don't have a bargaining chip, you're wrong." The high priest moved up behind Lyssia and forced her head down toward the book. "You're bound to the book, dear. If you don't complete the spell you began, you'll be consumed by it. A lich to serve Arthas himself, at the very best. At worst, well, you've seen what's been hanging in the trees, haven't you?"

Lyssia shuddered. "You're lying."

"Am I?" Karanus said in a low croon. "Do you want to take that chance? Are you brave enough to take that chance?"

Lyssia stared at the words on the page and whimpered. When Karanus released her, Lyssia haltingly began to read.


	18. Chapter 18

**Seventeen**

It wasn't hard to pick up on the trail, once they were inside. Thesaeya knew Lyssia's scent intimately, and could find the woman anywhere. What bothered the wolf was the other scent – undeniably male, young, but not human nor elf, nor any other race Thesaeya had encountered. She knew it, as all predators knew another predator's scent, but she couldn't place it. It was familiar, yet foreign, frightening yet gentle, a spin of chaos mixed with clarity. Thesaeya blew her nose and looked up at the kal'dorei that accompanied her.

Eit had the scent of a predator. He was also playmate, friend, and elder. Pack leader in place of Noreel. Right now, they were prowling and Thesaeya had permission to bite if Eit started going crazy and killing everything. He could kill things later, but first they had to find Lyssia.

Her scent grew stronger when they reached a long hallway and increased no matter which way Thesaeya turned her head. She went left first, and they ended up in a personal room drenched in both that unfamiliar predator scent and Lyssia's. Because neither were here, Thesaeya backed away and trotted down the hall, going right this time. Both scents grew stronger and her ears pricked as she heard a voice – Lyssia's voice.

The words made Thesaeya cringe, made her tuck her tail between her legs and lay her ears flat on her head. She whined, crouching where she stood and refusing to budge. Eit stared at her, confused. He couldn't hear the words, didn't know what they meant. Why? Why was Lyssia saying that spell? What was she doing? If they didn't have a ready receptacle Lyssia would…

Thesaeya whimpered again.

Eit recognized fear and discomfort and crouched down to put a large hand on Thesaeya's head. "She's down there, isn't she?"

Thesaeya whuffed.

"Alright. Then let's go get the others. Safety in numbers."

Thesaeya whuffed again and quickly bolted away from the foul dungeon. Eit was behind her, invisible but still with her. The rest of the group – Nakk, Nineveh, and Noreel – stood waiting just inside the main hall, ready for anything. Thesaeya nearly jumped into Nineveh's arms, almost wishing she were a puppy again so she could hide in his backpack. Still, just being with her master acted like a balm on her ruffled nerves, and Thesaeya calmed enough to try and explain her behaviour.

Hunters and their pets shared something kin to telepathy, where they could communicate through images and colours. It made them a part of one another, a partnership that ended by release or death. So Nineveh was able to, more or less, describe to the others in the pack what Thesaeya had felt.

"They have her finishing the spell she started." Noreel surmised. "Why?"

"Why do Scarlets need a reason to do anything?" Nakk asked. The druid stamped his hoof. "We need to go down and rescue her."

"The room's no doubt full of Scarlets." Nineveh reminded the group. "They'd kill us if we stormed it."

"But if we sowed a little confusion," Eit began with a smile, "it'll take down some numbers and give us time to get Lyssia."

"Don't forget the key and the book." Noreel added. "We need to destroy those, too."

"Easier said than done." Nineveh rubbed Thesaeya's ear. "Lyssia's the only one who can destroy the damned thing because she's the one who read from it. If it hasn't killed her already."

"So what do you suggest?" Noreel asked in an apathetic tone.

"Let's go sow some chaos, and see what happens then."

The group eyed each other and nodded, hands firm around their weapons and spells ready on their tongues. They were going to get Lyssia back.

Or they would die trying.


	19. Chapter 19

**Eighteen**

Lyssia's mouth was dry. She had two more lines to read and she couldn't concentrate. Dark magic, demonic magic, ancient and cruel, flowed around her, through her, and made her very, very afraid. She glance dup now and then and saw a convalescing mass of… something… hanging over the linen-wrapped body. It was steadily growing, steadily getting lower, until it all but obscured the mummy. Then Lyssia looked toward Karanus, and almost stuttered over the last word.

No wonder Karanus felt different from the rest! He wasn't human at all! Standing close by, in that human guise, which rippled and changed with the flow of the foul magic, was a dragon.

And not just any dragon. Karanus was a BLACK dragon, a child of Deathwing. A being that lived for chaos.

So why the hell was he with the Scarlets?

Her answer came when she finished the spell and was able to pull away from both orb and book. The convalescing cloud disappeared and Lyssia felt an odd weight lifted from her soul. However, as that weight vanished, the mummy began to move. It made sounds in an achingly familiar voice and sat up, groping at the bandages that encased it. Karanus grabbed onto Lyssia and hauled her back, grinning widely.

Lyssia snarled, "What's your game, wyrm?"

Karanus blinked, then grinned even wider. "To fuck with Scarlets, of course. I'm amazed your spell-sight allowed you to see my true form. Since you know, please call me Karanion. Give me a nickname, girl, and I'll make sure you die here."

Since Lyssia couldn't tell if Karanion was sincere or not, she clamped her teeth shut, and watched the human visage be replaced with one that (in her opinion) suited the black much more – a high elf. The Scarlets were too focused on what was happening to the mummy to notice Karanion or Lyssia.

Karanion just kept grinning the entire time he watched. Lyssia couldn't figure out the reason why, other than the fact he was going to cause pain and suffering. "Why?" Lyssia asked.

"Why what?"

"Why me? Why do all this? Why kill my friends?"

Karanion's blue-silver eyes flicked to her. "Because I could. I hadn't intended the book to fall into your hands, but it played out like I imagined. I just needed to help along the way."

"But why?"

"Because I wanted to see what would happen." Karanion said. "Isn't that why you read the book in the first place?" He smiled. "Deep down, you wanted to see what would happen. Don't deny it. You had every opportunity to walk away, but you didn't. You humans are easy to play with that way. Give you a nibble and you want a bite."

"I'm not like you." Lyssia hissed.

"No. But all creatures have curiosity, and they have the choice to sate that curiosity or not. I chose to sate mine, as you chose the same. Now we stand at the culmination."

"We have to stop it!" Lyssia hissed.

"Why?" Karanion shrugged. "Go ahead and try. Your father and friends will."

"Of course they will! And when they get their hands on you, you'll wish you'd never hatched!"

"Idle threats. They'll be looking for a human, not an elf. And if you breathe one word of what I am to them, I'll kill all of you." Karanion's voice was so serious Lyssia didn't doubt that he was lying. He was a dragon. They were within stone, earth, his very calling. There was no question about who would survive if Karanion got serious.

"So now what?" Lyssia asked, not quite admitting she was conceding.

"Now we wait for your rescue." Karanion replied. "And for the final act to begin." The high-elf shaped black dragon folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall, silver-blue eyes glittering as he watched the linen fall away from the corpse.

Lyssia's eyes widened as she saw the face beneath the bandages and crumpled to her knees. "Illidel…"

Noreel shuddered as he and Nakk and Nineveh and Eit drew closer to the noisy chamber. Men were screaming – Noreel couldn't make out what was being said, but he was sure it had to do with the foul magic he was sensing. Nakk drew up short and snorted.

"That's foul." He muttered. Noreel couldn't agree more.

"I hear Lyssia." Nineveh said softly. "She's praying. And there's someone with her. A swordsman, from the sound of it."

Nakk eyed the hunter. "Thesaeya tell you that?"

Nineveh simply gave him an odd look.

Eit drew his knife and vanished from sight. "We can't waste time. The longer she's in there the closer she is to dying."

There were the sounds of weapons being drawn as the companions stepped up to the chamber doors and pushed them open. Inside, men were screaming oaths as some… thing… chased after them. Those it caught were devoured or killed in such a way that internal immolation was the only answer, and it was these that rose to attack comrades. Spells had no effect, and Lyssia was doing her damndest to shield herself and her black-haired companion from serious harm.

When Lyssia spotted them, her eyes went wide. "Father!"

Thesaeya launched herself at a Scarlet priest that lunged toward Nineveh, and was denied the pleasure of the kill by her master's arrow. Still, she used the body as a vault and landed on the back of an undead Scarlet, teeth ripping at his spine. Her attack seemed to be the catalyst to the end of the chaos as every scarlet-eyed undead turned to her. The priests not maimed beyond movement or completely unscathed used the opportunity to flee and the companions let them.

Nineveh and Thesaeya remained by the door as Noreel, Eit, and Nakk rushed to Lyssia and her companion.

Lyssia threw her arms around Noreel and laughed with relief. Her high elf companion stood panting, a cut streaming blood down his left cheek and his eyes holding wounds far beyond the skill of any healer Azeroth could offer. Eit and the high elf exchanged nods of acknowledgement before focusing on the statuesque Scarlet undead.

Lyssia pulled back from her father. "We have to go. Now. While he's feeding. We'll take the book and destroy it outside."

"While who's feeding?" Nakk asked.

Lyssia shook her head. "We have to go. Now." She struggled to her knees. As if to keep from being seen, Lyssia crawled to the pedestal where the book rested and groped for it and the orb. The companions watched, confused, as she crawled back to them, items wrapped in her skirt's train.

An eerie howl rose from the dead things. Thesaeya whined. Lyssia flashed a glare at the high elf, but he merely gave her an 'I'm game' smirk. Eit and Noreel paid no heed to the exchange, instead turning to lead the companions out before they were noticed.

They passed Nineveh and Thesaeya one by one until all but the hunter were out of the chamber. Nakk turned to call for the kal'dorei and saw a flash of regret in those gold, wolf-like eyes. The Tauren looked past Nineveh's shoulder and felt blood drain from his face.

"No!" Nakk yelled, charging for the closing door. "No! Nineveh, you bastard! You can't fight him alone!"

The druid hit the closed door and pounded on the heavy, unforgiving wood.

"NINEVEH!" Nakk roared, hand becoming paw. The bear roared again and rammed the wood, never aware the rest of the group had gotten too far ahead to help even if he did manage to get to Nineveh in time.


	20. Chapter 20

**Nineteen**

The undead Scarlets crumpled to ashes as he strode by them, once yellow eyes blazing ruby. He stared at the foolish kal'dorei youth and the she-wolf that was snarling at him as he drew closer. He knew the hunter – at least, the body did – and knew he could easily add the boy to his ranks. Then, with just a few more, his sibling slumbering in Icecrown would have no choice but to yield.

"Illidel?"

He stopped. Smiled. "Nineveh." He replied in a voice that wasn't his. "Thank Elune you're alive."

The white-haired kal'dorei shuddered. "You're dead. I saw you die."

"Lyssia brought me back. She wouldn't help the Scarlets succeed, you know that."

He stopped an arm's length away from the kal'dorei boy. One touch. One touch and whatever was pure about the soul would be gone, consumed by raging flames. He reached out, slowly, and saw the lunge before the wolf actually had a chance to leave the ground. He hit her with so much force she flew across the room and hit the wall. She landed in a heap and didn't move.

Nineveh's eyes went wide. He started toward his fallen pet, but the creature that wore his brother's body lashed out, catching him by the pauldron on his right shoulder. Nineveh couldn't help the scream; though flesh wasn't touching flesh, he could FEEL the heat on his face and felt something cruel trying to breach his mind.

He tore away from Illidel and drew one scimitar, cutting at the wrist that held him fast. Metal hissed as it began to melt, but Illidel released him. Nineveh tumbled forward and came up on his knees, staring at what was once his brother.

"You'd be a general," the thing wearing Illidel's face crooned. "Powerful as you are, you could be my right hand."

"What did you do to Illidel?!" Nineveh yelled, edging closer to the stirring Thesaeya.

"I? I did nothing. The body was empty. That fool of a priestess called me, provided me with food, followers, and an earthly vessel. And you, you sealed yourself in here with me. Was it a suicide wish or a false hope that your dead twin had been revived?" He stepped closer, and felt an arrow punch through his unbeating heart. He laughed at the brave attempt, but ultimately shrugged it off. "Come now. Mine is a much better existence. No pain, no fear, no death. Even the Scourge will tremble!"

Nineveh released another arrow. He calmly blocked it, and watched the minor fire shield make ash and molten metal out of the bolt.

"Really?" he asked. "You can't beat me. Only the Aspects could stand against me and survive. I hear they're having their own problems though."

He was too close for arrows. Nineveh drew his other sword, silent. There was pain in those gold eyes, but they were resolved. He admired that. The kal'dorei certainly would make an excellent general once he yielded.

"Give up, little one." He chided. "I don't want to ruin that body of yours."

The elf spat a curse and oath in Darnassian. Thesaeya, on her feet once again, howled eerily.

"Fine then." He said with a resigned sigh. "Try your worst."

Thesaeya and Nineveh attacked.

When the companions stopped just outside the Scarlet hold in Stratholme, Lyssia noticed three things: Nineveh was missing; Nakk was missing; and (not that she cared) Karanion had disappeared. She collapsed in the courtyard and the book and orb spilled onto the cobblestones before her. She stared at them with tears in her eyes but she refused to let them fall.

Her only regret was that Karanion hadn't told her how to destroy the items before he'd vanished.

She could hear Noreel and Eit arguing. Both wanted to go back in and rescue Nakk and Nineveh, but it just wasn't logical. Lyssia needed them, Noreel argued in his monotone, Nakk and Nineveh could wait. Eit vehemently disagreed.

Lyssia watched the orb blankly. Shut up, she thought. Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut – "–up!" she screamed. "Just shut up! They're alive! But they won't be if I can't destroy these!"

Abruptly the mage and rogue stopped arguing. Lyssia knew both items were foul, demonic in some godly way. Karanion, bastard!, hadn't given her more information than necessary. A being born of chaos' seed, she doubted he'd want the book completely beyond his reach. So how to get rid of it? How could she get rid of both book and key?

The answer was there, staring her in the face, she knew. She just couldn't see it.

Noreel crouched beside Lyssia, set his hand on her shoulder. She kept staring, as if the cover would give her answers. What was she missing?

"That's it!" Lyssia breathed. "It's Godspeak!" She turned to her father. "The words, I knew I recognized them! They were in an old tome I read when Krasus visited the library at Stormwind Keep! Why didn't I see it before?"

Noreel frowned. "Perhaps we weren't looking for it. How DID you get hold of one of Krasus' books?"

Lyssia ignored her father's question. "It's evil. All I have to do is call upon the power of the Light and use it to destroy these things."

"Except you're a priestess, not a paladin." Eit mused.

Lyssia shot him a venomous glower. "I got us into this mess, I'll get us out. I have access to the Light, paladin or priestess. I just need to focus!" She turned her attention to the orb and the book and tried to quiet her mind. Nineveh and Nakk's lives could very well depend on her right now, so she couldn't screw up. But no answers were jumping out at her, and she could feel the minutes ticking by, mocking her.

Frustrated, Lyssia picked up a rock the size of her closed fist and swung it at the orb with all her might and will, giving a cry of true anguish.

The rock struck the glass of the orb.

A tiny hairline fracture erupted a second later.

Lyssia stared, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"Hit it again, Lyssia!" Eit hissed by her shoulder. "Break it! The red stuff inside, it's the same colour as the book's ink!"

Lyssia jolted at the revelation and lifted her rock to strike the orb again.

And again.

After what seemed to be hours, the orb shattered.


	21. Chapter 21

**Twenty**

Nineveh hit the floor hard on his side, and cried out as he felt ribs crack. He was already littered with wounds – a few fingers were broken, now a few ribs. His left shoulder was dislocated and he was pretty sure there was internal bleeding along with a concussion. His weapons were damn near useless and Thesaeya had bowed out of the fight under no choice of her own. He was alone against this… thing… that wore his brother's body. And Nineveh was sure he'd be dead soon.

He couldn't move without coughing up blood and chose to lay on the ground for a while, until his chest stopped hurting. He could hear murmurs, but he couldn't make out the words. Nineveh figured brain trauma wasn't that far out of the question.

The hunter struggled to his feet and turned to face his opponent. Illidel seemed to be gaining strength as Nineveh lost it, his wounds healing almost instantly without the slightest hint of a scar. The knowledge that the demon was toying with him weighed heavily on Nineveh's mind, but the kal'dorei refused to give up or give in. He would kill himself before the demon or even Arthas got close enough to try and make him a minion.

The night elf's back collided with the wall. Nowhere to run. Illidel was close enough that Nineveh knew a good, solid strike to his chest would drive him back and give Nineveh enough room to maneuver an escape. As if sensing the elf's idea, the demon quickly closed the distance between them and Nineveh knew he was out of options.

"You'll enjoy it." The demon wearing Illidel's face crooned. "It's a wonderful existence. Immortality, invulnerability; you can't ask for more." The demon cupped Nineveh's chin and tilted his head up, so they were staring into each other's eyes. "Just relax, elf, and let me take the pain away."

Nineveh let out a wild shriek/howl and kicked up. It was a futile effort for that part of the body was no longer receiving any feeling, but the surprise attack worked. The demon lurched back and Nineveh broke away, rushing for the door. He picked up a discarded arrow and hissed as the red stuff on the metal arrowhead touched his skin.

Nineveh never made it to the door.

The demon was on him in a flash, driving him down hard enough to break more ribs. Nineveh spat up blood with his breath and knew a lung had been punctured. His vision blurred. He twisted despite the further harm it would do and drove his lone arrow into Illidel's chest, into his heart. All the demon did was laugh.

"Can't kill what's already dead, elf!" Illidel crowed as he wrapped his hands around Nineveh's throat and squeezed.

Nineveh scrabbled futilely against those powerful hands. His vision was darkening; his body had sustained too much trauma, and now he was being choked to death when he'd suffocate on his own.

Nineveh whimpered. At least, he THOUGHT he whimpered. He thought of Eit, how the rogue would kill him, if he managed by some miracle to survive this; of Noreel and Lyssia, who'd blame herself; and he thought of Nakk, and how close they'd become in the short time they'd been together. They'd never said it, as though admitting it would make it true, but they'd started to care for one another, maybe more deeply than what should be proper. Now Nineveh thought, as his vision began to spot, how he should've told Nakk that he believed he was falling in love with the druid, how he should've told the Tauren something of how he felt.

Now, though, he'd never get that chance.

Somewhere, in that darkness, Nineveh heard a bear roar over the shattering of a thick wooden structure. Suddenly, he could breathe again as healing magic coursed through his body, though he inhaled a good amount of bear fur as he found he COULD breathe again. More healing waves washed through him, mending broken bones and ruptured arteries, and Nineveh struggled to his feet, using Nakk the Bear's shoulder as support.

The demon in Illidel's skin just laughed. "A druid? What do you think you can do that he couldn't?"

Nakk's answer was a terrible roar that shook Nineveh's bones. The demon erupted into laughter that was biting and cold. "Come and try, druid." Taunted Illidel. "I'll take pleasure in gutting you."

Nakk roared again and charged, claws and teeth put to use on flesh that healed almost instantly. Nineveh could do nothing more than watch, healing and unable to do more than stand there and breathe.

His gold eyes focused on the arrow protruding from Illidel's chest. Blood oozed there, as though the wound wasn't healing.

It WASN'T, Nineveh realized. The arrow wound wasn't healing! But why? How? Nineveh couldn't remember what he'd done to the arrow, and it irked him. Nakk roared in pain and retreated back to Nineveh, bear form giving way to Tauren. Nakk said nothing as he grabbed Nineveh's arm and pulled him toward the ruins of the chamber door, simply grimacing and pressing his hand to his bleeding side. Behind, Illidel's laughter chased them with the sound of his feet, slowly chasing them down the hall.

Both knew that, unless some miracle happened, they were dead. But neither the demon nor the Lich King would have them.

The red substance clung to the chunks of the orb like viscous fluid, and Lyssia nearly gagged as she picked up the shards containing the red. She opened the book, seeing the writing before her eyes. She had to close her eyes lest her resolve fail, because she could almost literally FEEL the will of the book inside her mind. The young woman tipped the first shard over the pages, and slowly, the stubborn red stuff slid off onto the book. A howl rose up in her ears, and she was sure she was the only one who heard it. The only thing keeping her steady was the thought was that she'd be saving Nakk and Nineveh.

Okay, so maybe she was looking forward to the look on that bastard Karanion's face when he came back for the book and found it destroyed.

One by one, she tipped the shards, spilling the red gloop onto the pages, all the while focusing the power of the Light onto the book. She could feel pain in her head, but she kept at it. Pain meant one of three things – she was concentrating too hard; she was succeeding; or both. She just kept at her work, expecting Noreel and Eit to keep her safe.

Their attention, however, was on the doorway of the Scarlet stronghold. The sounds echoing within unnerved Eit so much so the rogue was set to murder anything that came outside. Noreel, on the other hand, simply watched, and waited.

Lyssia cracked open one eye to stare at the book before her. It was smoking, dissolving, and Lyssia dropped the last bit of red onto the smoldering pages. Now she had to concentrate all of her attention to the Light, praying this would work. She couldn't have more deaths on her conscience. She refused to be anyone's killer anymore and focused the Light harder. Beads of sweat rolled down her face; her lower lip she bit through in her concentration. Her blood dripped into the red viscous goo on the pages and the two substances reacted suddenly.

And violently.

Lyssia screamed as she jerked away from the flailing tome. Her eyes were wide as the pages flipped forward and back, as though it were a dog trying to get water off its fur. A smoking dog that was bleeding – BLEEDING! – like a stuck pig.

A scream rose from inside the building, one so terrifyingly bone-chilling that Lyssia's skin crawled. She saw Eit draw up, readying himself for an attack as two shapes threw shadows on the wall. They were moving fast, but they were obviously injured.

Nineveh shouted something in Darnassian that made Eit freeze in mid strike; instead, the kal'dorei rogue latched onto the younger night elf's arm and "helped" Nakk drag the wounded creature out into the courtyard. Lyssia tore her gaze from the book and focused on Nineveh, calling upon the Light to heal the more grievous-looking wounds despite her headache.

"Is… is it over?" Lyssia hesitantly asked. No one replied. She looked toward her father, the Forsaken's filmy gaze focused on the gates.

A shadow filled the doorway. Illidel, Lyssia realized. But it wasn't Illidel, not this bloated, bleeding, burning thing. It didn't walk – it LURCHED, blood and flesh sloughing off to splatter at its feet. Its burning eyes focused on Lyssia, and she could feel its malevolence and hatred for her. It would come for her, killing everyone in its path.

"Don't go near!" Noreel shouted at Eit as the mage backed away from the putrid thing. "Mortal weapons can't hurt it."

"Then how are we supposed to destroy it?!" Nakk snapped, tightening a bandage sling around Nineveh's arm. The kal'dorei hunter looked at Lyssia. She looked back at him, helpless.

"I can't use any more spells." She said lamely. "I'll end up killing myself."

Nineveh shook his head. "You can pull a bow, right?"

The putrid thing was coming closer, reaching out for Noreel as he cast spell after spell, exhausting his mana. Lyssia struggled to her feet and groped for Nineveh's bow. What was she thinking? How could se defeat this thing with a bow?

She heard a cry, closed her eyes and breathed. There was an arrow in the foul demon already, the only wound that didn't seem to heal even a little bit. Why?

When Lyssia opened her eyes she looked at the shards of the orb at her feet. A perfect sliver glinted in the light, and Lyssia heard Eit cursing. Giving a foul curse of her own, Lyssia grabbed the sliver and nocked it as best she could. She sighted the tiny target of the arrow already protruding from his chest and focused every ounce of willpower she could.

It was a horrible gamble, she knew. She drew back on the bowstring until her fingers ached. She saw Eit defending Noreel as the Forsaken mage attempted to regain mana. She saw Nakk defending the wounded Nineveh. She saw the faces of the dead, good dwarves that had died because of her. She saw Illidel's face and let out a growl as she let the sliver fly.

The bow was almost yanked out of her hand as the shaft hurtled away toward its target. The demon's laugh became a howl as the orb sliver crashed into his chest and began to burrow its way deeper. Lyssia wasn't aware of Eit dragging her behind the barricade of boxes to shield her from the devilish flames. She wasn't aware of her father shaking her, asking her if she was okay. She saw Illidel standing beside the demon, smiling at her. At his side was a beautiful woman that she could only assume was Alexstraza, or maybe Ysera. He waved farewell, and Lyssia collapsed.


	22. Chapter 22

**Twenty-one**

"You're really going, aren't you?"

Nineveh looked up at Eit. Then he slowly nodded. "Nakk said he'll introduce me to his home village. Besides, I never liked being cooped up."

"You'll visit." It wasn't a question.

"Of course." Nineveh strapped his pack closed and stroked Thesaeya's ear. "And I'll write, too, when I can."

"You'd better," came Lyssia's sleepy voice as she trodded down the stairs, "or I'll never forgive you."

Nineveh gave the priestess a wan smile and accepted the hug she offered. She was looking better, he admitted to himself. After she'd destroyed the fire demon inhabiting Illidel's body, the connection she'd forged with it had been severed. Combined with her overexertion with the use of the Light, her body had nearly expired. She'd been asleep for days, with one of them keeping vigil. Still, Nineveh wanted to go, and Nakk was determined to leave. Once he pulled away from Lyssia, he gave Eit a punch in the shoulder, then lifted his pack to his shoulders and whistled. Thesaeya obediently loped after him, and they met up with Nakk outside the house.

Eit and Lyssia pretended not to watch as the Tauren nuzzled the kal'dorei, and Nakk and Nineveh pretended they didn't see the way their audience expected something more.

Lyssia leaned against Eit as she watched Nakk and Nineveh disappear into the wilds of Tirisfal, and sighed. "Soo…" she began, "how pissed is my father?"

Eit smiled. "Let's just say you'll want to send letters more often and not get into trouble for, oh, twenty years."

"That pissed, huh?"

"Sweetheart, after the past few weeks, 'pissed' doesn't even begin to cover it."

Lyssia knew there was no escape when Eit slung his arm around her shoulder and quite literally pinned her to his side. All the young priestess could do was squirm when they turned around to face Noreel, whose perfectly blank expression frightened Lyssia more than it should have.

"Can't we talk about this? I'm wounded." She protested.

Noreel's lips twitched. "My house. My rules." He pointedly looked at Eit. "My rogue."

Lyssia looked up at Eit and grinned weakly. Eit grinned back. Somehow, Lyssia decided as Eit tucked her into bed and started fussing, this was her father's idea of revenge. All she could do was endure, though, because she deserved it.

When she was finally alone, Lyssia closed her eyes and sent a prayer to the heavens. It wouldn't be answered, but then, it didn't need to be.

She was alive. Her family was alive. And she knew that, despite the many losses they'd suffered, she couldn't ask for more.

Lyssia settled down beneath her blankest and sighed, smiling. It was, quite simply, over.

The rocks rumbled. It was a dull roar, one that made a wary person give pause and wait for the avalanche of ice and snow. The yawn ended and the rumbling stopped. But it was awake now, and it was hungry. It could sense power above it, a dark sweetness that was more addicting and arousing than anything it had felt before. It almost moved, but then it reminded itself to be patient. That was how its sibling had died, rushing into things.

No, it would plan, it would study. It would slowly create a web, and by the time the prey saw the trap it would be too late.

It had waited far too long for revenge against its enemies, but a little while longer certainly wouldn't hurt. If anything, it would make the revenge that much sweeter and more assured.

So it settled back and slowly sent probes upwards, seeking defenses and studying them.

No, for this power, waiting a little while longer would certainly be for its own benefit.


End file.
